There is a War
by picascribit
Summary: A kiss, a rape, a tragedy, a night of passion, a pregnancy, a wedding, an attack, a prophecy, and a birth. The dark tale of James and Lily Potter from their first kiss to the birth of their son. (1978-1980) Warning: rape, violence. "There is a War" lyrics are the property of Leonard Cohen.
1. It's Just Beginning

_There is a war between the rich and poor,_  
_A war between the man and the woman._  
_There is a war between the ones who say there is a war_  
_And the ones who say there isn't._

_Why don't you come on back to the war? That's right, get in it._  
_Why don't you come on back to the war? It's just beginning._

"You coming up, mate?"

"Hmmm?" James Potter dragged his eyes reluctantly away from the redhead across the common room to focus on his best friend.

"I'm heading up to bed," said Sirius Black, jerking his thumb towards the stairs where Remus Lupin stood, waiting. "I'm all in."

James glanced from Sirius, already half-turned toward the young werewolf, to Remus, unfathomable brown eyes fixed on Sirius. He shook his head. "I'll be up in a bit," he said. "I'll - ah - just wait for Pete."

Sirius looked quizzically at James. "Pete went up ages ago, mate."

But James's eyes were already back on Lily Evans, red head bent over her copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_, lost in her studies. Sirius sighed and turned away. He and Remus disappeared up the stairs to their dormitory. After a moment, all that could be heard in the Gryffindor common room was the crackling of the fire in the hearth and the turning of pages as Lily read.

James rose and crossed the room to fetch another piece of wood for the fire, not so much because it needed it, as because he would have to walk right past Lily to do so. He placed the log on the fire, trying to cause as much crackle and rustle as he could without being too obvious. At last the redhead looked up.

"Has everyone gone to bed?" she asked in dismay. "What time is it?"

"Not too late," he assured her. "Quidditch tomorrow, remember? People want to be up early."

"Oh." Then, "Who's playing?"

He laughed. "We are. Against Hufflepuff."

She blushed. "I guess I forgot."

James sighed theatrically. "It's no wonder my not-inconsiderable charms have no effect on you. How ironic that the one thing about which you are woefully ignorant is the one thing at which I excel! You wound me, Evans."

Now she was laughing, too. "James Potter, you are the most arrogant person I have ever met." But she rose and came to join him on the sofa.

"Such flattery! I am deeply moved." He grasped her hand and knelt before her with flourish. "Marry me, Evans. Make me the happiest man in the world."

"Serve you right if I said 'yes'." She looked mildly amused.

"Sometimes I wonder," she continued as he dusted off his knees and resumed his seat beside her, "whether you have a sincere bone in your body."

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "What makes you think I'm being insincere?"

"Well," she replied, choosing her words carefully. "It seems to me that you could have almost any girl in the school. The only reason I can see for you to pursue one of the few who's not interested is to feed your considerable ego. Everything is a game or a challenge or a joke to you."

"And how do you know I'm not madly in love with you?" he inquired.

She snorted. "In love? You? Never!"

"Do you really believe that, Lily?" he asked softly.

The use of her first name made her pause. Her face was very close to his. He could almost fall into her wide, green eyes. Gathering up his courage, he took her hand again, pressing it between both of his.

"I know I arse around a lot, Lily," he said, all hint of teasing gone from his voice. "Maybe you're right; maybe I _could_ have any other girl at this school. All I know is, I don't want them. The things I say about you - I mean them. Every one." He brought her hand to his mouth and gently kissed her fingers.

"Wha - what are you doing?" She sounded slightly breathless.

"Your scorn hurts me, Lily," he continued. "I always think that, if I can just make you laugh, maybe you'll give me a chance. But it doesn't ever seem to work. What do I have to do to earn a chance with you?"

"James, I - I don't know what to say." She moistened her lips nervously with a delicate flick of her tongue that made his heart skip a beat.

"Say you'll give me a chance," he said earnestly. "Say we can go out sometime, just the two of us, and see how things go. We'll be leaving Hogwarts soon, and I can't bear the thought of never seeing you again."

"I think maybe I'd miss you, too," she said softly. "I - I suppose we could go out sometime. I think I'd like that." She gave him a tentative smile.

Feeling as though his heart would burst, he leaned forward and kissed her very gently. Her mouth moved against his, but she did not pull away.

After a moment, she broke the kiss and gave him a stern look. "But you have to promise me one thing, James Potter."

"You have only to ask." He felt lightheaded.

"You have to promise me that you'll leave Severus alone. He's been through enough."

James made a face. "Do I have to? Really?"

"Yes, you do," she said firmly. "And you have to promise that you'll make your friends leave him alone as well."

He sighed. "That's a tall order, Evans."

"Oh, I'm 'Evans' again, am I?" She raised her eyebrows. "Does that means the deal's off?"

"No, no!" he said quickly. "I - I'll get the guys to lay off him. There's only a few months left here, anyway, and then we'll probably never see him again, right?"

"I'd appreciate it, James," she said sincerely. "He's really not so bad. Some of the time."

She rose from the sofa. "I'm going to do a quick sweep of the main corridors before bed. You'd better go get some sleep. Quidditch tomorrow, and all."

She turned to the portrait hole and left. James remained on the sofa, staring into the fire and grinning. He had finally kissed Lily Evans! He had had his eye on her since third year - at first, he had to admit, because it drove Severus Snape mad - but before tonight, she had never voluntarily touched him.

Life was definitely beginning to look brighter, despite the horrors of the war that raged outside the school's walls. Soon enough, they would be out there, in the thick of it, but maybe if life after school still contained Lily, it would not be so bad.

And they had a date! Next weekend, conveniently enough, was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Valentines Day to boot. Sirius and the others might be disappointed, but he spent almost all his time with them. How often did he get to have Lily all to himself? Besides, Sirius and Remus would probably be off doing their own thing. And Peter - Peter would understand.

He thought he would wait up until Lily returned, and ask her if next Saturday sounded good to her. Twenty minutes later, he was still waiting. Ten minutes after that, he went looking for her.

* * *

Lily wandered the darkened corridors of Hogwarts, checking to make sure no students were out of bed, and nothing was amiss, but her mind was elsewhere.

James had pleasantly surprised her tonight with his moment of sincerity. She had to admit that he was easy on the eyes, not to mention clever, and even thoughtful when he wanted to be. And that kiss - She felt a delicious shiver start at her lips and end at her toes at the memory of it, a warm glow settling somewhere in between. She would definitely not mind doing _that_ again.

She turned a corner just in time to see a silent shadow slip out of the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The figure froze at the sight of her lit wand. She groaned inwardly. Rabastan Lestrange, the most unpleasant Slytherin in her year, which was saying something. Well, she would just have to be businesslike, and not let him get to her.

"It's after hours, Lestrange," she said, approaching him. "Go back to bed, and maybe I'll forget I saw you."

An ugly sneer curled the boy's mouth. "Well, if it isn't Dumbledore's pet mudblood," he said. "Tell me, does 'Head Girl' mean you give great head?"

She ignored him. "Back to your dormitory _now_, Lestrange, or it's twenty points from Slytherin."

Rabastan tilted his head and gazed at her, calculating. "What does a dirty mudblood have to do to get the power to take house points from a pure-blood? Did you blow Dumbledore to get the job?"

"That's twenty points gone," she said evenly. "Go, before I make it fifty."

She did not even see him draw his wand. "_Stupefy!_" he hissed, and shoved her against the stone wall. Her wand dropped with a clatter from her unresponsive fingers as he pressed her to the stone.

"Stupid mudblood," he spat at her. "You think house points matter? You think you're safe here with Dumbledore watching over you? In a few months you'll be out there, and then you'll just be another corpse. But there's no reason why we can't have a little fun first, you and I."

She could not move to defend herself, or even close her eyes, as his hand slid up her thigh, under her skirt.

"Why, what's this, mudblood?" he grinned. "No pants? Who knew swotty Lily Evans was such a dirty little whore? And so wet," he murmured, a hand sliding between her thighs to feel the effect James's kiss had had on her. "Slut wants it pretty bad, I guess."

His grin widened at the terror in her eyes. A tear slid down her cheek. He licked it away and shoved a finger roughly inside her.

His eyes lit with delight. "So tight! Are you a virgin, Evans?" he leered, prodding her viscously. "Aren't you just a lucky little mudblood whore, getting your first fuck off a pure-blood man?"

He ignored the tears now flowing freely from her eyes, pausing in his explorations only long enough to see to the flies of his trousers.

"The war is coming to you now, slut. And it's just beginning." She could hardly hear him over the screaming inside her head.

He pried her paralysed thighs apart, and she felt the tip of his swollen cock pressing against her. He teased her with it, the manic grin never wavering in front of her face. She wished the hex had numbed her body, but she could feel everything. Now she felt the head of his cock sliding inside her as he muttered, "So fucking tight!"

He paused, looking at her. "I think I want to hear you scream when I pop your cherry, whore," he said conversationally.

* * *

James paced the darkened corridors of the school, his anxiety growing with each passing second. He had just reached the stairs leading down into the dungeons when a piercing scream rent the air. Not daring to think what might have happened, he ran, pounding down the age-darkened stones of the school. Throwing himself around a corner, he stopped short, stunned by the scene that met his eyes.

Lily crouched, huddled and sobbing, against the wall, her face pressed to her drawn-up knees. Rabastan Lestrange hung by his ankles in midair, cursing fluently, his robes falling around his face, his exposed cock glistening and throbbing obscenely. And standing with his wand trained on Lestrange and a look of deepest loathing on his face was Severus Snape.

James fell to his knees and crawled over to Lily, putting a hand on her arm. She shrank away from him.

"_Don't_ -!" Her voice was muffled in the folds of her robes.

"Lily -" he said despairingly. "It's me. It's James. Did he - are you all right?"

Lily shook her head, but it was Snape who answered. "Of course she's not all right, you fucking prig. She's just been _raped_."

He felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. "Lily," he said hopelessly, brushing her hair away from her face. "Lily, look at me."

She raised her head then. He had never seen such a look as he saw in her eyes at that moment. They seemed to be screaming, though her mouth was clamped shut tight. It was a look that would haunt his nightmares to the end of his days.

He tried to make his voice as comforting as possible. "It's all right now. You're safe. He can't hurt you anymore."

"I want to go home," she whispered. "Please, take me home." Tears spilled over her lashes and flowed unchecked into the neck of her robes.

"Of course I will," he said soothingly.

He took her by the hands and helped her to her feet. She sagged against him, and he put his arms around her, supporting her weight. As they turned to go, she hesitated, then turned back to Snape. His wand was still pointing at Lestrange, but his eyes were on the two of them.

She laid a hand on his arm. "Thank you, Severus," she whispered.

James felt intensely uncomfortable. "Thanks," he said grudgingly.

"You get her out of here," Snape replied stiffly, barely opening his lips. "I'll take care of _this_." He jerked his head toward the suspended Lestrange.

They made their way slowly back to Gryffindor tower, stopping off at the girls' toilets on the third floor. James held Lily's hair while she vomited, rubbing her neck and making senseless soothing sounds.

He asked her if she wanted to go see Madam Pomfrey, but she shook her head. "I just want to go home," she repeated. Her voice sounded flat and dead.

He helped her back through the portrait hole and led her to the sofa where only an hour before, they had talked and laughed and kissed. She stared into the fire, not seeing it. Her hands lay curled and limp in his.

"Please look at me, Lily," he begged.

She turned haunted green eyes toward him, but said nothing.

"Are you hurt?" he asked. "Lily, I need to know. Do you need - help?"

She lowered her eyes, staring into her lap. "No. I don't think so," she said softly. "He didn't - finish." She shuddered.

"Oh, _God_, Lily!" He felt a sob rise in his throat and he squeezed her hands more tightly in his own. "Don't - you don't have to talk about it. Just tell me, what can I do?" he begged. "Anything. You want him dead? Just say the word."

She shook her head, tears suddenly spilling over her eyelashes. "No, James - I don't even want to think about him. Just - just stay with me a while, please?"

The sorrow in those green eyes made James feel as though his heart was breaking. He put his arms around the weeping girl and held her close. He could not tell if she was shaking or if he was. He murmured and soothed and shushed, but he felt desolate inside. He would have stopped his own heart to save her a moment's pain - to take away the terrible events of that night.

He fished out a crumpled handkerchief and dabbed gently at her tear-streaked face. "I'll make it all better, Lily. I promise I will," he babbled. "I'll make the hurt go away."

She looked up at him with a sad smile. "It's sweet of you to say that, James. You've been so k-kind."

He shook his head. "It's not kindness. I love you, Lily."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh."

Suddenly her mouth was on his again, desperate. He could taste the salt of the tears on her lips as he surreptitiously drew his wand. _Obliviate,_ he said silently, and broke the kiss.

He watched sadly as Lily's eyes lost focus for a moment, then she gave him a stern look and said, "But you have to promise me one thing, James Potter."

"Eh?" he said in confusion.

"You have to promise me that you'll leave Severus alone. He's been through enough." Then she noticed the look on his face. "What's wrong, James? Do I kiss that badly?" Her laugh was light and musical and seemed part of another lifetime to him.

"No, no -" he said, thinking quickly. "It's just - er - I just realised how late it is. We should be in bed. That is - I mean - I should go to bed, and so should you." He blushed.

She laughed again. "Right. Quidditch tomorrow. I'll try not to forget again." She looked at his watch. "Goodness! It _is_ late. Where did the time go? I was going to do another sweep of the school before bed, but -" She yawned.

"I'm sure the school will keep for one night," he said uncomfortably.

She nodded. "You're probably right." She stood up, then turned back to him. "So. Hogsmeade next weekend? You and me? That is, if you're civil to Severus."

He tried to smile. "It's a deal," he assured her.

As she disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, James stayed where he was, staring into the fire. He did not think he could sleep if he tried, and he knew his performance in tomorrow's match was going to suffer, but all of that felt very remote from him now.

His mind kept going over the events of the night, the sick feeling twisting in his guts. He wished he could Obliviate himself so he would not have to see again and again that look in Lily's eyes, and Rabastan Lestrange's erection, glistening with her stolen innocence. He swallowed and shook his head, trying to dispel the image. And _Snape_ had saved her. Snape, and not himself. He thought perhaps that galled him most of all.

* * *

The next morning, Sirius found James still sitting in the common room, staring into the depths of the long-dead fire.

"_Christ_, mate! You look awful!" he said, peering closely at his friend. "Have you been here all night?"

James nodded tiredly.

"Are you all right?" Sirius asked. "How did it go with Evans?"

James jerked at the sound of her name. "What? Oh. It - er - it went okay, I guess." He rallied himself gamely. If Lily would never know what had happened last night, then, best friend or not, Sirius could never know either. "We've - ah - got a date for next weekend."

Sirius's face split into a grin. "Brilliant!" he declared. "Just wait'll I tell Moony!" He paused. "Are you _sure_ you're all right, mate?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Well, you'd better go get ready for the match," said Sirius dubiously.

James nodded tiredly, but as Sirius turned to go, he stopped him. "Oh, Padfoot, you know that - er - thing we've been planning?"

The common room was beginning to fill up with yawning students heading down to breakfast, and James knew better than to let the Marauders' plans find their way to the ears of the uninitiated.

"Which thing? Oh, the one for Snivellus?" he said, grinning wickedly.

"Yeah," said James. "Only I was thinking. What if we did it to Rabastan Lestrange instead?"

Sirius shrugged. "If you like. It was your idea, after all. I'm going down to breakfast."

James rose and followed him, ducking out of the common room before Lily could spot him.


	2. Between the Odd and the Even

_There is a war between the left and right,_  
_A war between the black and white,_  
_A war between the odd and the even._

_Why don't you come on back to the war? Pick up your tiny burden._  
_Why don't you come on back to the war? Let's all get even._  
_Why don't you come on back to the war? Can't you hear me speaking? _

What had happened to Lily brought home the reality of the war for James in a way that nothing else ever had. There was a difference between knowing terrible things were happening to people generally, and seeing very specific terrible things happen to a person one cared about.

James had always planned to become an Auror like his father. Before, though, this had been because of the adventure and glamour inherent in the job. Now, it became his obsession. He needed to do something that _mattered_ - something that might protect people from the kind of pain and suffering he had seen in Lily's eyes.

His friends noticed the change in him, though they never knew the cause of it. They watched in varying states of bewilderment and admiration as he gave up pranking and began to focus exclusively on his studies. His entire demeanor became more serious, and in his few remaining months at Hogwarts, he was more often to be found in the library, studying with Remus, that lounging around the castle and the grounds, joking with Sirius and Peter.

At first, his three best friends thought that James was just making another bid to impress Lily, but the Head Boy and Head Girl barely seemed to speak to one another anymore after their one and only date in February. Even that Spring, when Lily's parents were killed in a car crash, James did not emerge from his studious fog.

Their time at Hogwarts came to an end, and while Sirius and Remus moved in together, and Peter got himself a job and a room at the Leaky Cauldron, James remained at his parents' home and trained as an Auror under his father at the Ministry of Magic. He knew from his experience with the Animagus transformation that he could excel at almost anything if he applied himself, and he applied himself to his training with a vengeance. No one would be safe until this war was won, and the Aurors made up the front lines.

James was fast, quick-witted, and agile, as well as being a creative problem solver and possessing the confidence necessary to carry off a disguise. He impressed his superiors with his ability to hide and avoid capture, though he told no one but his father of his Animagus ability. Joseph Potter was impressed, but told his son he must register himself, which James promised to do - after the war.

Though he knew he would not be allowed to participate in active fieldwork until he had completed his training, James pestered and begged his father to be allowed to come along on an assignment. He was a year into his training when his father at last relented.

"You can come and observe," he told his son sternly. "But you must stay hidden."

The assignment was a fairly routine one. Intelligence gathered by the Order of the Phoenix - the Ministry's "unofficial" network of spies and other volunteers - suggested that the Death Eaters would shortly be placing an order for potion ingredient for their recently-recruited - and so far, unidentified - Potions expert. All that was needed was for someone to be present at the apothecary to overhear what the order included. From there, it would hopefully be a simple matter to determine what potions were being made, and hence, what Voldemort was planning.

The rendezvous was scheduled for Halloween morning, and James and Joseph Potter, dressed in Muggle clothing, arrived shortly after dawn to view the layout of the area. The apothecary was located in a mainly-residential area of a suburb of York. After a quick look around, Joseph nodded in satisfaction.

He turned to his son. "Tell me what you see, James."

Observation was an important part of Auror training. James looked up and down the street. "I see a small apothecary shop disguised as a Muggle herbalist. It's the only business nearby. I see a row of Muggle houses and cars. I see a wooded area, beyond which is the local school."

"Good," said his father approvingly. "Now, what do we do?"

James thought for a moment. "Well, the shop doesn't open until nine o'clock, which is in about two hours. The rendezvous is set for half nine, by which time most of these Muggles will be at work or school."

Joseph nodded. "The area will be fairly clear, in case anything goes wrong."

"Which it won't," said James firmly. He looked up and down the street again, continuing his location analysis. "The best place to observe from will be over amongst those trees. We'll be able to see anyone approaching the shop from there, and they'll provide good cover."

"Except that I would rather already be inside the shop when they arrive," Joseph said thoughtfully. "You will observe from the trees. Keep your disguise on, and if anything goes wrong, Apparate to the Ministry _at once_," he said severely. Then added, "And James? No heroics."

James looked rebellious for a moment, then lowered his eyes. "All right."

Joseph Potter looked at his son fondly as the two of them made their way to the shelter of the trees. "You're a good boy," he said. "I think you'll make a fine Auror one day. But you have to learn to trust people to be able to look after themselves. You're very much like your mother that way."

"I know, Dad," James said uncomfortably. "It's just - if I do it myself, I'll know if it's done right, you know?"

Joseph smiled. "I know, Son. Just remember that most adults can take care of themselves, and if they need help, they'll ask for it. You can't save the world by yourself."

"I know. But sometimes you can save someone's world," he said softly, thinking of green eyes and a soft kiss.

They were silent after that - watchful. The sun rose, revealing a bright, chilly October day. Leaves rustled and fell around them as the two men watched the street intently. Muggles and their children got into cars and headed to their jobs in the city or a day at school, but for James and Joseph Potter, the world seemed to be holding its breath. At last Joseph spoke.

"It's a quarter past. I'll head in now." He gave his son a grin. "If it all goes to hell, tell your mother I love her. You can give her a kiss from me if you like, but it might be better not to squeeze her bum," he joked.

James looked pale and anxious, but tried to return his father's grin. "I'll be here when you get back, Dad."

"Off I go, then. Let's see that magnificent rack, Son."

James shifted forms as his father took a swig of Polyjuice potion. He pawed the ground nervously as the man who now looked nothing like his father gave him a brief pat on the shoulder and strolled down the street toward the apothecary as if he had not a care in the world. James heard the bell over the shop's door jingle faintly in the distance. He waited, tense, hardly daring to breathe, his sleek coat blending with the shadows.

Several minutes passed before he heard it: three tiny but distinct popping noises - the sound of wizards Apparating.

_Three? For an assignment like this? That can't be right._ But there they were. He felt his stomach twisting into knots.

James did not recognise any of the figures, but then, they were probably using Polyjuice, too. The autumn breeze carried their conversation to his sharp ears. They seemed to be discussing Quidditch. Maybe it was nothing, and these were not Death Eaters. Even if it wasn't nothing, his father was one of the best Aurors in the Ministry; he could handle anything they threw at him.

_Even if something does go wrong, it'll be all right. I can stun them from here if they try to run._

Suddenly, with a loud _pop_, another figure Apparated, not twenty feet from his hiding place. This one, he recognised.

* * *

Shoving her hair back from her forehead in annoyance, Lily Evans viewed the shelves of carefully-labeled bottles, jars, and boxes without much hope.

_You'd think one of the foremost hospitals in the Wizarding world could do better than this._ She sighed in frustration.

"It's not a question of quantity," she informed the witch in Purchasing a few moments later. "It's the quality I'm worried about. Look at this dragonbone," she said, shoving the item in question under the witch's nose. "It's got to be three months past its sell-by date. Look, it's gone all squidgy and brown." She poked the usually-rocklike root in demonstration. Her finger left a deep indentation.

"And this acromantula venom," she continued, shaking a small bottle of pale blue liquid. "It should be green. Some cheap bastard has gone and diluted it with something. God knows what."

"If you'll write up a list of what you need," said the Purchasing witch blandly, "I'm sure we can get it to you in a couple of weeks."

"That's not good enough," Lily insisted. "Whoever you've got buying this stuff doesn't know mandrake root from gillyweed. They're obviously just buying whatever's cheapest. And it's never two weeks; it's more like a month."

The Purchasing witch looked nonplussed. "If you'd like to file a complaint -"

"No. Never mind." Lily threw her hands in the air. "I'll do it myself. I know, I know," she said as the witch opened her mouth to speak again. "Itemised receipts. I'll get them to you."

_If you want something done right -_

She returned to her desk in the St Mungo's Potions laboratory to collect her coat before Apparating to a clump of trees near her favourite apothecary. Before she could get her bearings, she was startled by a sudden flicker of movement in the shadows beside her.

To encounter a magnificently-antlered stag in the wilderness of the Scottish highlands is a breathtaking experience. To find oneself staring one in the face from not twenty feet away in the midst of the suburbs of a decent-sized English city is enough to unsettle anyone.

Lily froze. Seconds seemed to stretch on into eternity as neither of them moved.

A sudden shout and a flash of green light at the corner of her eye made her spin around. The stag leapt forward, and suddenly James Potter was standing beside her.

"What -?" she began, bewildered.

"_Dad!_" he cried, starting forward. His eyes were fixed on the apothecary shop as its door burst open and three figures emerged at a run, wands in hand.

Instinctively, Lily grabbed James and dragged him back. But it was too late; they had been seen. The three wands were trained on them, and one of the approaching figures began to laugh.

Without a second's thought, Lily wrapped her arms around the stunned young man and Apparated them both the hell out of there.

* * *

They sat side by side in the Aurors' office at the Ministry of Magic. James was rocking slowly back and forth, staring straight ahead, but clearly seeing nothing. Lily did not want to leave him there by himself, but she could tell from his body language that the slightest touch would have him up and pacing again.

He looked pale and haunted - entirely unlike the arrogant, loudmouthed prankster of her school days. This was the same stranger with whom she had gone to Hogsmeade on that Valentine's Day date almost two years ago. He had been just as pale and distracted, and had barely said two words to her. Seeing him so now made her wonder again what could have happened then to make him like that. It was utterly bewildering to her, and she did not know what to say or do. So she sat in silence, and together, they waited.

Witches and wizards were moving about the office, some restlessly, some purposefully. Every now and then, two or three would stop and speak to one another in low voices, casting glances at James and Lily where they sat, waiting for word.

A team of Aurors had been dispatched to the apothecary to assess the situation, and to retrieve Joseph Potter and deliver him to St Mungo's, if there was a need. A second team was awaiting the first team's report. It would be their duty to deliver such news as there was to Eleanor Potter.

"He's dead." The hoarse voice startled Lily. James had not spoken since their arrival at the Ministry. Lily herself had made the witness statement which had sent the team out to assess the damage.

"You can't be sure, James," she said softly.

He shook his head. "He'd be back by now. You saw the green light. He wouldn't keep me waiting."

Lily knew it was true. She did not want to say anything trite about it being quick or him going to a better place, and she did not think James would hear her, in any case. Silence descended again.

It was another fifteen minutes before the Aurors returned. Their grim faces told that the news was not good, but they walked past Lily and James without a glance, entered an office, and closed the door behind them. Lily strained her ears to catch any part of the conversation, but could pick nothing out of the murmur of voices. At last, the door opened again, and the two Aurors emerged, looking very tired. A plump, motherly-looking witch leaned around the door frame and beckoned Lily and James inside.

Lily hesitated. "I should go," she said softly. "I mean, I didn't - don't even know your dad."

James looked at her, hazel eyes pleading. "Don't," he whispered. He fumbled for her hand and the two of them walked through the doorway together.

The motherly-looking witch seemed unsurprised at Lily's presence. She shook the girl's free hand briefly in greeting. "I'm Detective Cassandra Clarke," she introduced herself. "I'm the Magical Law Enforcement liaison to the Auror's Office. I know young James here, but I don't believe we've met."

"Lily Evans," Lily replied, awkwardly returning Detective Clarke's handshake. "I'm a -friend of James' from school," she added. The word sounded odd. She had never thought of herself and James as friends before.

Detective Clarke nodded. "Please sit down, both of you." She summoned two glasses of water, and Lily noticed that a box of tissues already sat upon her desk.

The strained smile of welcome faded from the witch's face, and lines of sadness appeared. "James," she said quietly but firmly, "there is no gentle way to say this. I'm sorry to inform you that your father is dead."

James closed his eyes and shivered. "I know," he whispered.

"We already have Miss Evans' statement," Detective Clarke continued gently, "but we will need you to make one as well. Perhaps you will be able to shed some light on the identity of your attackers?"

Not opening his eyes, James shook his head. "I didn't recognise any of them. They were young, though. If they were wearing their real faces, they would have been at Hogwarts with us."

The detective nodded grimly. "Now that they have a Potions expert at their disposal, Polyjuice will be as readily available to their side as to ours. Identification will be more of a problem than ever, if people aren't using their own faces."

"Maybe Maxwell knows something," Lily suggested tentatively. "The apothecary, I mean."

The grim line of Detective Clarke's mouth tightened. "The apothecary is dead."

"Oh." Lily had been rather fond of the old man. He had been a kindly, grandfatherly sort. She found that there were tears in her eyes.

The detective turned back to James. "Identities aside," she continued, "we will still need you to file your report. I know it's difficult, but you are a witness and a member of this department. We cannot let our personal -"

There was a preemptory knock at the door, and an Auror entered. "Detective Clarke -" Then she caught sight of James and Lily. "Detective, may I speak with you a moment?"

The detective rose. "I'll return presently," she assured the two young people. The door closed behind her.

Very slowly, James Potter crumpled. He sat hunched in his chair, face buried in his hands. There was a moment of silence, then an enormous sob erupted from his throat and he began to shake. Lily felt the tears spill down her own cheeks, and turned to wrap her arms around him.

"What am I going to tell Mum?" he sobbed. "I should have -"

"It's not your fault," she murmured. "There's nothing you could have done. She'll know you did your best."

"But all I did was hide," he protested.

She drew back, remembering, and looked at him intently. "Did I really see what I thought I saw?" she asked. "The stag. Was it you?"

He raised reddened eyes to hers. "Yes," he confessed softly. "I'm an Animagus."

Lily was awestruck. "I never knew. How long -?"

"Since fifth year." He looked down at his hands. "I never told anyone but Dad."

"You're not registered?" she asked, shocked. "But that's illegal!"

"I meant to register after the war. I told Dad I would -" Another sob welled up in his chest. He swallowed. "And I will. I promised."

She took his hand, trying to draw him away from the precarious edge of that gaping pit of grief. "Why did you do it, if you never meant to tell anyone?" she asked. "That doesn't sound like the James Potter I know."

"I did it for a friend," he whispered.

"What?" She stared at him, uncomprehending.

"Remus needed -" he shook his head. "It's all a secret," he confessed. "None of us has ever told anyone."

She smiled a little tremulously. "I know Remus is a werewolf, James," she informed him. "He told me a long time ago. That's why you all called him 'Moony', isn't it?"

James's mouth dropped open in shock, then he closed it and nodded. "That's why we did it," he said at last. "So the wolf wouldn't have to be alone."

"We?" Lily gasped. "You mean, _all_ of you -?"

He nodded again. "All three of us became Animagi for him. He wasn't a danger to other animals. And he was - better - when we were with him."

"But that's incredible," she said softly. "I never knew you could be so - Remus was really lucky to have you as friends."

"Well, he's a good friend."

James was about to say more, but the door opened again. Detective Clarke's eyes were red from weeping, but her professional demeanor was firmly in place.

"James," she said hoarsely, then cleared her throat. "I'm afraid I have some more bad news."

"My father is dead," he said bitterly. "I doubt anything you could tell me will make me feel much worse." But Lily felt his grip on her hands tighten in fear.

Detective Clarke bowed her head and gazed at her clasped hands for a moment. "James," she said again, and her voice sounded tight. "We sent a team of Aurors to your home. They found -" she took a deep breath, "- they found the Dark Mark over it."

"Mum?" His voice was high and frightened as a child's, and filled with desolation. It sent a shiver down Lily's spine.

Still staring at her hands, Detective Clarke continued, "We think it was a setup. We're investigating the source of the original information on the apothecary rendezvous, but we believe that they knew which areas your father patrolled. They certainly knew he was one of our best and brightest. They were ready for him, and in the meantime, they sent someone to your house when they knew he wouldn't be at home. We think they meant to get you and your mother both," she added softly, looking up at last. "They wanted to hit us where it hurts. And they did."

James's face was blank and white with shock. He looked as though he were about to crumble into nothing. Lily had a sudden urge to pry her fingers out of his and wrap her arms around him, holding him together through sheer force of will. She felt again the desolation she had experienced when she had lost her own parents, suddenly and violently, only eighteen months before. She wished she could save James the pain she knew he was feeling, but she knew there was very little she could do. He would have to get through it in his own way, as she had.

In the meantime, Detective Clarke was speaking. "Do you have someplace safe you can go?"

James continued to stare, uncomprehending, and Lily realised there _was_ something she could do.

"Yes," she said. "He does."

* * *

Nothing felt real. It was all a nightmare and soon he would wake up and his mother would be downstairs cooking breakfast and his father would be telling him to hurry up or they would be late. He reached out and touched the cold, rough stone of the wall. Could he dream that texture or the chill in the air or the soft weeping of the red-haired girl kneeling at the grate, laying a fire to warm the room?

He tried to feel something - something that did not tear at his insides. At last, he found a tiny spark of gratitude. No one was asking him questions anymore - asking that he speak and remember. All was quiet now. It was a relief. Lily had been there to answer the hard questions, and then make the people asking them go away. Lily felt real.

She had brought him here to this place of safety - to Hogwarts - and told Professor Dumbledore what had happened. Dumbledore had quickly summoned a house-elf to arrange a room for him, and then rushed off to the Ministry. Now she turned to look at him as if she could feel his eyes on her. For a long moment, neither of them said anything.

At last she rose. "You should try to get some rest," she said. "I'll go."

"Don't." He could not keep the pleading from his voice, and his hand reached toward her without his willing it.

She came to him quickly and held him in a tight embrace. "Oh, _James_! I'm so, so sorry," she said tearfully.

He swallowed a sob, letting his arms find their way around her slender waist. "I can't even think about it anymore. Not tonight," he said. "Stay with me. Talk to me. Help me think about something else. Anything at all."

"All right. Tell me -" she began, "- tell me about being Animagi. I can't get over the fact that all three of you managed it. It's incredible."

He smiled slightly at the look of admiration in her eyes. There was a time when he would have given anything for such a look from her. He wondered if that time had passed. Only this morning, he had been a completely different person.

He told her a little about the transformation, and some of the adventures they had had, but somehow every story seemed to take him back to the subject of his parents, and grief would wash over him again. Every time this happened, Lily was there to hold him until the shaking subsided. After the third time, he apologised.

"It's all right," she said. "I know what it feels like, remember?"

He closed his eyes as two more tears spilled down his cheeks. "How did you manage?" he asked quietly.

"Good friends. A few talks with Dumbledore and McGonagall. And a lot of tissues," she confessed. "It's awful at first, but I promise you it gets easier. And in the meantime, you have your friends to help see you through. Sirius and Remus and Peter. And me."

"But it's not just that," he said bitterly. "It's this whole fucking war. So long as I have friends, I still have something to lose. Will they take everything from us, Lily?"

"I don't know," she said softly. "Sometimes I think we have to win this war, because the alternative is too terrible to contemplate. And sometimes I don't think we _can_ win without stooping to their methods." She sighed. "I think maybe the most important thing I learned from my parents' accident is that you can never know what's going to happen, so you've just got to do the best you can with the time you've got."

James looked at her miserably. "I thought I was," he said. "I thought being an Auror was the best I could do."

She smiled a little at that. "You could have done a lot worse," she told him.

"But that's just it; I lost sight of the _reason_ I decided to become an Auror - the thing I was best at."

"What was that?" she asked curiously.

"Loving you."

"Oh."

"I wanted to do something to make the world a better, safer place for you to live in. And I thought maybe, once the war was over -"

"But we tried that, didn't we? And it didn't work out." She remembered again the silent stranger from their Valentine's date.

He shook his head. "That was my fault. The war sort of - took me by surprise, I guess. I hadn't had time to adjust to it yet. I was a different person then."

"I noticed," she replied.

"And I'm a different person now, I think." He looked at her hopelessly. "Who am I, Lily?"

She looked at him for a long moment. "You're James Potter," she said at last. "And it means the same thing it's always meant, and a few new things, besides. But you'll learn those in time."

He lowered his eyes. "I don't know what I would have done today without you. Call it God or Fate or whatever, but I can't believe it was coincidence that you were there."

"I'm glad I could help," she replied.

"I just wish there was some way I could thank you."

They were silent for a moment, arms around one another, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Lily?"

"Hmmm?"

"Would you mind very much if I kissed you?"

She raised her head an looked into his sad, hopeful eyes. "I think I'd like that," she said.

Their lips met. The kiss was as soft and tentative as their first had been, and she wondered why she remembered that one tasting of tears as well.

So much had changed since then. He was no longer the maddeningly-arrogant joker of their school days, but neither was he the silent stranger of their awkward date. He was a man who had, in the space of a few hours, earned her admiration and her sympathy. He had proved his devotion to his friends, and confessed his love for her. She had seen enough to want to know more.

Nor was she the same person as she had been. A year of seeing firsthand the casualties and effects of a war waged against people like herself had taught her that the rules were not nearly as rigid as she used to believe. Some rules had to be bent and some had to be broken in the name of the greater good. She had learned the value of daring and courage, and now a man who had both in abundance had told her he loved her.

More than anything, she wanted to do all she could to comfort him. And she realised she had something she could give to help him lose himself and maybe find something good, at least for a while. She kissed him again, longer this time, the tip of her tongue touching his lips, inviting.

He made a soft sound in his throat, and his arms tightened around her in response. His hands moved over her body, and she let them wander. When he paused and drew back, a question in his eyes, she answered by reaching for the fastenings of his robes.

The touch of his skin on hers was warm in the cool air of the room. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his hands tracing the curves of her breasts and hips. Opening her eyes to look at him, she felt terrified and excited all at once. She could see in his eyes how much he wanted this.

"I've never done this before," he confessed.

"It will be all right," she told him.

Her thighs parted and his hand moved between them, cupping her damp heat in his palm. She gasped.

"I swear to you, Lily," he whispered, "I will never let them harm you. I will keep you safe."

"I know," she murmured, drawing him down to her.

His tears fell on her cheeks as he entered her, but neither one of them wanted to stop. They could feel, and it meant that they were both still alive, here between the odd and the even, and with their bodies they did their best to drive back the darkness for a time.

* * *

The spill of copper silk on the pillow beside him tickled his nose and woke him. For a moment, he remembered nothing. Then it all came back at once. The horror and loss of the day before, mingled with the sweetness of the night that had followed.

Lily lay beside him, pale skin glowing in the morning light, golden lashes swept downward in sleep. He watched in silence the rise and fall of her breasts, wishing he could caress them again, but not wanting to wake her just yet. He knew if he touched her, he would want nothing more than to lose himself in her all over again. He marveled at the magic she held to make the pain go away.

He must have made a sound, for she opened her green eyes. For a moment, she looked startled to see him, then she blushed and smiled shyly. "Good morning."

In answer, he moved close and kissed her, reveling in the taste of her soft lips. He was already hard and longing for the slick, enveloping warmth of her. She turned toward him, eager and willing.

There was a knock at the door.

"Go away!" James shouted.

"Prongs - James - is that you?" called a voice in reply.

"Slytherin's arse!" James groaned, rolling out of bed. He fumbled for his robes and wrapped them clumsily around his waist before going to the door.

In the corridor stood Sirius Black, wild-eyed, tears staining his cheeks. "James, I just heard. I've been trying to find you for hours. What are you doing here? Why didn't you contact me? How -" He looked beyond James into the room and stopped, staring openmouthed at the redhead in the bed. "Is this a bad time?" he said at last.

The look of shock on Sirius's face was too much for James after the high-running emotions of the previous twenty-four hours. He broke down and laughed until he had to sit on the floor, wiping his streaming eyes.

"Oh, _God_! Padfoot, if you could only see your face!" he gasped. "'Is this a bad time?' It could hardly be worse, mate."

At last, he sobered up, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely to his shocked friend. "Things have been crazy. I'm sorry I didn't get in touch."

Sirius nodded, his eyes still fixed on Lily. "Dumbledore told me to come get you," he said at last. "There's stuff you have to do. Paperwork. Signing things. He said better sooner than later."

James sighed. He knew there was a lot to do. There was a long, hard day ahead of him. But he would get through it, he knew, because Lily was right; he had his friends to help him. And he had Lily, who had made a promise to him with her body last night. She was his too, and he would not lose her. He would fight this war on every front, and he was damned if he would suffer Voldemort and his Death Eaters to take one more thing from him.


	3. You Can Still Get Married

_You cannot stand what I've become,_  
_You much prefer the gentleman I was before._  
_I was so easy to defeat, I was so easy to control,_  
_I didn't even know there was a war._

_Why don't you come on back to the war? Don't be embarrassed._  
_Why don't you come on back to the war? You can still get married._

"What? _Already_?" Lily laughed.

Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadows had paused in their potion mixing for the Order, and were grinning, too.

"Why not?" Alice Longbottom said, dicing mandrake root and returning the smile. "Just because there's a war on doesn't mean everything else in life stops. Frank and I have been married for six months. Why shouldn't we be trying for a baby?"

"I can't think of a single good reason," Lily assured her sincerely. She sighed a little wistfully. "When I was little and I thought life was simple, all I wanted to do was fall in love and get married and have lots of babies."

"No reason why you shouldn't," said Alice. "I think you'd make a wonderful mother. I bet you and that James Potter would make some very pretty babies," she added, grinning wickedly.

Lily blushed and bowed her head so her hair hid her face, feigning fierce concentration on the antidote before her. "What on earth would make you say a thing like that?"

"Well," said Marlene slyly, "he _has_ been by 'just to say hello' three times this week."

Lily waved a hand in dismissal, but would not meet the other women's eyes. "It's nothing," she said. "We were friends at school. And last month when his parents - you know."

The women nodded in sympathy.

"Terrible," said Dorcas, shaking her head sadly. "Joseph Potter was one of the Ministry's best Aurors, and Eleanor was such a sweet lady."

Lily smiled a little sadly. "I never got to meet them. But you know I was there when James's father - went to the rendezvous."

"War is a terrible thing," said Alice. "But life goes on. You can still get married. You can't fool me, Lily Evans; I know what kind of 'friends' you and James Potter were at school."

Lily smiled and shrugged. "Maybe when the war's over. You remember what James was like in school, Alice. I don't know if he's mature enough for a commitment like that, let alone fatherhood. He's only nineteen."

"Oh, so you've thought about it!" interjected Dorcas with a laugh.

Lily blushed again. "In passing," she admitted. "Don't tell me you've never thought about Sturgis like that, because I know you have!"

It was Dorcas's turn to blush. "We've talked about it," she confessed. "But like you said. After the war."

"Well, there you are," Lily replied as if that settled matters. "No reason I shouldn't be thinking such things. James has changed a lot in the last couple of years. He's much more responsible than he used to be. He may be marriage material yet, by the time I'm ready to think about it."

"Good looking, too, isn't he?" Alice said with a wink. "I wonder how agility on the Quidditch pitch translates to the bedroom?"

Lily only smiled.

* * *

James was writing up reports when Remus came to see him. Remus took the empty chair and watched in sympathy for a moment as James ignored him, running fingers through hair which was already standing on end from hours of such treatment. There was a smudge of ink on his nose where he had scratched it with his quill.

"All these bloody reports!" cried James at last, breaking the silence. "Why can the Order never assign me to anything _useful_?"

"Reports _are_ useful," replied Remus mildly. "Did you sleep with Lily? Sirius said you did."

James looked up at him coldly. He was in no mood for the male version of a gossip session. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"You did." Remus nodded thoughtfully. "Are you planning to marry her?"

"What?" James asked blankly, utterly wrongfooted by the question.

"She's only nineteen, and she hasn't got any family," Remus explained. "Someone needs to look out for her. I'm it."

James sighed, his fingers scrubbing at his scalp once again. "We had a - a night," he confessed tiredly. "Adults are allowed to do that, you know. Without getting married. You and Sirius do."

"We do," Remus replied, frowning censoriously. "But to my knowledge, Sirius is not, at present, carrying my child."

"_What?!_" cried James. "Lily is -? How do _you_ know?" he asked suspiciously.

Remus touched a finger to the tip of his nose. "I know," he said simply. "Now, are you going to marry her or not? Because I think it would impair our friendship if I were forced to bite you on the arse next full moon."

* * *

He did not want to believe Remus at first. As the days passed and Lily did not say anything to him on the subject, he began to relax. Werewolf senses or not, Remus did not have much experience with expectant women. There was every chance he could be mistaken. But when James opened the door of his new flat to find Lily standing on his doorstep a few days later, he knew by the look on her face that Remus had been correct. Still, he tried to forestall confirmation.

"You have your 'Head Girl' face on," he said lightly, standing aside to let her in. "What have I done?"

"What?" she asked, surprised. At his gesture, she took a seat on the rather worn sofa he had managed to pick up cheap.

"That look you always get when you're about to take someone to task for rule-breaking." He gave her his most winning Quidditch Captain smile, but he could feel the sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. She could probably hear his heart pounding.

"Oh. Well, I'm not here to yell at you, if that's what you're worried about," she said, biting her lip. "I just - thought we should talk."

"That sounds sort of ominous." He sat down beside her on the sofa.

They stared at one another in silent indecision for a moment.

Finally, Lily took a deep breath and said it in a rush, "James - you ought to know - I'm pregnant."

He had known it was coming since he had opened the door. Or if he was honest with himself, since Remus had told him. Still, like an idiot, he asked, "Are you sure?"

She smiled ruefully. "I mix potions for St Mungo's and the Order, James; I can make a pregnancy test potion."

"Well, sometimes those things aren't accurate," he babbled. "How can you be sure?"

"James, I _know_," she said, clearly calling up a reserve of patience she had put by especially for the occasion. "I double-checked. I'm having a baby."

"Well, what - I mean, how can I -" Why would his brain not work?

"Look, James. I'm sorry. I hate to spring this on you, and I don't mean to put you on the spot," she said, taking his hand. "I'm not asking you for anything. I have a good job. I can work for awhile yet, and my parents left me some money as well. You don't have to worry about me."

He nodded dumbly.

"I've made the decision to have this baby. Now I'm giving you the chance to decide how involved you want to be. I don't expect an answer right away," she added, seeing the overwhelmed expression on his face.

He nodded again, hardly knowing what to think.

At last, to his relief, a rational response surfaced in his brain. Remus always had the most sensible ideas. "Do you want to get married?"

She smiled again, but he caught a tinge of sadness in the expression. "You don't have to do that," she assured him, patting his hand.

He shook his head. "I said it wrong. What I meant -"

He rose from the sofa and got down on his knees before her. Clasping both of her hands formally between his own and looking straight into her startled green eyes, he said, "Lily Moira Evans, I love you. Will you be my wife?"

For a moment she stared at him, speechless. At last, she said faintly, "Yes. I suppose I will."

"All right, then. That's what we'll do."

* * *

James went to tell Remus and Sirius the news the next day. Remus looked approving, but Sirius was stunned.

"You're getting married? Just like that?" he asked. "Why?"

James looked at Remus. "You didn't tell him?"

"Wasn't my place to tell," said Remus with a shrug.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at them. James knew he hated the idea of his friends keeping secrets from him.

"Sorry, Padfoot," he said. "I figured Moony would have told you. I only found out for sure yesterday, myself. Lily's pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Sirius asked stupidly.

"Yes, Padfoot," James said patiently. "She's going to have a baby. We are. And we're getting married."

"Well," said Remus, smiling. "This is good news! When's the big day? What's the plan?"

"Er - plan?" James said weakly.

* * *

She knew that, traditionally, she should tell her family first that she and James were engaged, but all the family she had left was her sister Petunia, and they had not been on good terms for a few years. So it was Alice who heard the news first, and then Dorcas and Marlene. Amid the hugs and congratulations, Alice had a few questions.

"I thought you and James were 'just friends'," she said shrewdly. "Since when do 'just friends' suddenly decide to get married?"

"Well, it's just - we were - we wanted to -" She sighed. "Oh, bloody _hell_! It's not like you won't figure it out eventually. I'm pregnant."

There were gasps of shock, and a squeak of delight from Alice, who hugged her again.

"Oh, Lily! Congratulations!" She grinned wickedly. "I guess the Quidditch Captain still remembers some of his moves."

"_Alice!_" cried Lily, blushing. "You're going to spoil the moment. I was just about to ask you to be my Matron of Honour. And I was hoping you two would be my bridesmaids," she added, turning to the other women.

Alice dimpled with pleasure, but Marlene declared herself much too old to be a bridesmaid.

"Don't you have a sister?" she asked. "You really should ask her."

Lily looked a little sad. "I will," she said, "but I know what she'll say already. She didn't even tell me when she got married. Anyway," she teased, "don't you want to know how hideous the robes I'm choosing are, before you go refusing them?"

"When's the big day?" asked Dorcas. "I expect it's soon."

"It had better be," said Alice, "or it'll be maternity robes all around." When the other women looked at her, she dimpled again. "Lily's not the only one with news."

* * *

Even with work and the war on, James and Lily's friends found the time to help them plan their wedding. Or rather, help Lily. James had left the details of the wedding up to her, assigning himself the task of finding a new home for his incipient family. His own flat was squalid and unsuitable, and hers was much too small for the soon-to-be-three of them. Still, he was slightly stunned when she set the date of the wedding for Hogmanay.

"Can you really get it all ready that soon?" he asked in wonder.

"I can and I will," she told him. "Don't you worry about it, James. All you have to do is choose a Best Man, make sure you have decent robes, and turn up on the day. But if you can only manage one of those, I would prefer it to be you to showing up," she joked rather nervously.

"I'll be there," he assured her.

Between the four of them, Lily and her bridesmaids arranged the robes, the venue, the flowers, and the food by Christmas. When Lily had suggested that they ask Dumbledore to officiate, James had agreed at once, and they had gone together to ask the headmaster, who had informed them that he would be delighted. Besides that, the happy couple were so busy they hardly saw one another between the evening of the proposal and the wedding itself.

In fact, after James asked Sirius to be his Best Man, Lily saw more of him and Remus than of her fiancé. The two young men were an eager and fiercely-protective team, and Lily might have been irritated at their insistence upon doing every last little thing for her, if she had not been so touched. But there was one thing they insisted she do herself.

"You have to talk to her," Remus told her sternly one evening a week before the wedding. "However things may stand between you, she's your sister, and she ought to know, at the very least."

Having reluctantly agreed to contact Petunia, Lily knew she could not, in good conscience, do anything so impersonal as sending an invitation or placing a phone call. She knew she must go in person. Mindful of her sister's feelings about such things, and that most Wizarding methods of travel could be hazardous for the baby, Lily made her way to Little Whinging by Muggle means, and wearing Muggle clothing.

Her sister and her husband had taken up residence in Lily's parents' house, so she had no trouble finding the place. She did feel a twinge, though, at knocking on the front door of her old home like an unwelcome stranger. Heavy footsteps sounded within, and with a click of the latch, the door opened. A large, red-faced, mustachioed man looked her up and down with small, suspicious eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked rudely.

Armoring herself in courtesy, Lily forced herself to smile. "You must be Vernon," she said, extending her hand. "How lovely to meet you at last. I'm Lily Evans. Petunia's sister."

His eye widened, and for a moment, he looked indecisive. At last, without taking his eyes off her, he raised his voice. "Petunia!" he called. "There's someone here to see you."

More footsteps, and then Petunia Dursley's blonde head and horsey face appeared, peering around her husband's beefy shoulder. She uttered a small scream of horror and grabbed Lily's arm, dragging her inside.

"Someone might have _seen_ her, Vernon!" she berated her husband. She let go of her sister and turned to face her. "What do you want?" she demanded.

Lily spread her hands in a placating gesture, and attempted to keep her wavering smile in place. "It's good to see you, Petty," she said softly.

Petunia snorted. Vernon Dursley hovered behind his wife uncertainly.

Lily took a deep breath and continued, "I came to invite you to my wedding. Both of you," she added hastily. "I'm marrying James Potter. I told you about him, Petty, remember?"

Her sister stiffened slightly at the name and nodded imperceptibly.

"It's going to be held on the thirty-first in a little village called - called Hogsmeade. It will just be a small ceremony," she assured them. "Very quiet and respectable. I've had some bridesmaid robes made for you, Petty." She looked pleadingly at her elder sister.

It was Vernon who spoke first, though. "Is it going to be your sort of people there?" he asked, eyes narrowed. "Petunia's told me you run with a very odd crowd. From some special school? Weirdoes, the lot of them, she said."

Lily glanced at him in surprise and then looked back at her sister. "You haven't told him?" she asked in disbelief.

"You think he'd believe me?" Petunia hissed. "You think I'd want him thinking _I'm_ the crazy one?"

"Oh, for heaven sake!" said Lily, rolling her eyes. She turned to Vernon. "I'm a witch."

He looked unimpressed. "Oh, I see. One of those new-agey types, are you? Bonfires and running around the woods with your kit off?"

"Nothing of the sort," she said coldly. She drew her wand and pointed it at his chest. "_Vestis Constrictus_."

With a long _hiss_, all the air left Vernon Dursley's lungs. Petunia gave a squeak of dismay, and hurried to loosen his tie and straining buttons as his face grew purple.

"I see that I have your attention now," Lily said evenly. "As I was saying, I am a witch. My fiancé, James Potter, is a wizard. All of our friends and their families who will be attending the wedding will be witches and wizards. And," she concluded in tones of satisfaction, laying a hand upon her midsection, "our children will be witches and wizards."

She released the charm, and Vernon gulped a lung-full of air. Ignoring his wife's concerned fluttering, his eyes remained fixed upon Lily. She was gratified to see that he was shaking slightly, though he made a creditable attempt to retain his composure.

"Your children?" he asked in dawning horror. "This - this _deviancy_ - it's not _genetic_ is it?" He turned his horrified gaze upon his wife, eyes fixing upon her hands, clamped tight across her belly.

"_No!_" screeched Petunia. "Sister or no, I won't have you spreading your filthy lies here! It's not true, Vernon," she said, turning her pleading eyes to her husband. "_She's_ the deviant. _I'm_ normal. My parents were normal. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, all respectable, upstanding, and completely, utterly _normal_." Her hands remained firmly in place, bony fingers digging into the fabric of her dress.

"Oh, Petty!" Lily cried, unsure whether to laugh or weep. "You're having a baby too?"

The disquiet was clear in Vernon's eyes as he turned them on Lily. "Leave my house at once, woman." His voice was low and threatening. "You have upset my wife, and I _will not_ have you near my child, nor any of your kind either. Go."

It was starting to rain as they shut the door behind her. In that last instant, when her eyes had met her sister's, she thought she saw a flash of regret, but perhaps it was only wishful thinking. By the time she found her way back to the train station, her face was wet with rain. It was impossible to tell if she had been crying.

* * *

James stood staring at the vision of loveliness before him, feeling stunned. A smiling Dumbledore had said "husband and wife", and a crowd of their friends had cheered the chaste kiss they had exchanged, but he could not quite believe that it was real.

_Since when am I such a lucky bastard?_ he thought, grinning stupidly.

He noticed Lily's eyelashes were clumped with moisture, though she was smiling and biting her lip as if trying not to laugh. He had not thought to be starting a family so soon, but if this was his chance to have this beautiful, brilliant woman all to himself, he was by God going to take it.

A surprising number of people had turned out for the big day. He had not noticed during the ceremony - he had had eyes for no one but Lily - but the Three Broomsticks was crowded for the reception afterwards. In a troubled world, people will find the time to rejoice at any cause for celebration. Most of those assembled knew Lily was expecting, but it made no difference to them. Their friends were happy for them, and soon a new life would enter the world. They were all prepared to do whatever they could to see that this child grew up in peace and safety, and never knew the hardships of this dreadful time.

Alice Longbottom looked nearly as radiant as Lily. She and her husband Frank kept casting besotted looks at one another, clearly recalling their own wedding day the previous spring. Lily had told James that Alice, too, was expecting, and he eyed her covertly, trying to decide if he would have known if he had not been told. He still thought it hugely unfair that Remus had known of Lily's condition before he had. But then, Remus had the heightened senses common to werewolves, and he had always shared a special bond with Lily.

Looking around for Remus, he instead spotted a dark-haired woman whose cheekbones and gray eyes identified her as a member of the Black family. Andromeda, the only Black besides Sirius who would countenance attending a wedding between a pure-blood wizard and a Muggleborn witch. Andromeda's husband, Ted Tonks, was also Muggleborn. Their marriage had horrified her family, who had promptly disowned her. It went without saying that she and Sirius were close.

Andromeda caught James's eye and came to offer her congratulations. "Lily looks lovely," she said in her throaty voice, smiling down at him. She was a tall woman, with Sirius's wide smile. "And you don't look half bad either," she added with a wink, glancing at his hair.

He grinned at her. "Flatterer," he said, patting his head self-consciously. "Lily despairs of me; there's not a charm nor potion that can make my hair lie flat."

"I so wanted to bring Dora with me today," she said with a sigh.

"Dora?" he asked, confused.

"My daughter, Nymphadora," she explained. "She would have loved this." She gestured at the food, the decor, the guests in their finery.

James nodded. "Sirius said she was ill. I hope it's nothing too awful?"

"Dragonpox," Andromeda said ruefully. "Ted had to stay home with her. It's such a shame I couldn't bring her; she's hardly been out of the house in weeks. I'm terrified something might happen to her," she admitted. "She hates being cooped up, but she's so careless, and she's endlessly getting away from me. You know how she loves hiding."

James nodded vaguely. He had met the girl once or twice. Sirius was besotted with his little cousin, and often boasted of how much she resembled him, taking pride in her mischief and misadventures.

All thought of Sirius's extended family left him, though, as green eyes met his across the room. _Accio James,_ he thought, and said, "Sorry, Andromeda; I think I'm wanted."

She gave a throaty laugh and patted his arm. "Don't let me keep you. I was just about to go examine the vast array of cakes Rosmerta has laid out."

James felt as though he was drowning in emeralds as those green eyes drew him across the room. A radiant smile touched the mouth of the red-haired witch dressed in cream-coloured robes edged in delicate pink. _I would die for that smile._

She took his hand in hers. "I was wondering where you'd got to," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. "I thought you might like to try some of the mead before Sirius finishes it."

"I haven't had that mush - er - much," said their Best Man, feigning offended dignity.

"Well, go easy," Lily told him. "You have a speech to give, remember?"

"Don't - _hic_ - don't you worry, my dear," he replied grandly, bowing to her. "It will be a marvelous speech, full of wisdom and portent and - er - things."

"I should have warned you," groaned James. "Sirius gets pompous and avuncular when drunk."

There was a flash of light, and all three turned to regard Peter, clutching his old, battered camera and grinning.

"Which of these lovely ladies is the bride, Prongs?" he teased.

He snapped another picture of the three of them, as Sirius laughed, and James and Lily grinned lovingly at one another.

James inclined his head toward Sirius. "That one's been spoken for, more's the pity," he said mournfully. "I guess I'll just have to settle for the stunning redhead."

"I hope these pictures come out," said Peter, winking at Lily. "I'm not sure my poor camera can handle anything so blindingly beautiful."

"Now, Wormtail, don't flirt," admonished Sirius. "Prongs already told you; I'm promised elsewhere."

James tore himself away from Lily long enough to take Peter aside for a moment. "I wanted to thank you," he said sincerely. "I know your mum's poorly, and I really appreciate you making the effort to show up today."

Peter looked slightly abashed and addressed his own toes. "You know I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

"And," James added, "I appreciate that you didn't bring - well, you know."

Peter had been seeing Madeleine Yaxley off and on since their fourth year. Long acquaintance had not endeared her to the rest of the Marauders.

"I wanted to ask her," he admitted miserably, "but you know what she would have said."

James allowed his friend a little sympathy. "Something about blood traitors and mudbloods and not being caught dead, doubtless," he said drily.

"I'm sorry, Prongs," Peter looked up. "I know what you lot think of her."

"You know she's probably a Death Eater, don't you?" James inquired gently.

Peter nodded again, eyes dropping back to the ground. "I've broken it off with her. For good this time. I don't want anyone to think I'm associated with - those people." He shuddered slightly.

James clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man, Wormtail," he said warmly. "You can do better than her, anyway. That girl was trouble down to her toes."

"James!" someone called, making him look up. The guests were shushing one another, their attention turned toward Sirius, standing on a chair next to the mead cask with a glass in his hand.

The Mead Toast was an ancient Wizarding custom, whereby a close male friend or relative toasted the bridal couple with honeywine, symbolically bestowing the family's blessing on the union, and usually embarrassing the hell out of them in the process. James had no brothers or other family, and so the task fell to Sirius, his Best Man and best friend. James and Lily made their way to the mead cask as Sirius began to speak.

"I was going to say something witty that would have you all rolling on the floor, wetting yourselves with glee," he said. "But Remus suggested that I try taking something seriously for once. What the hell, eh? I'm open to new experiences." He grinned and raised his glass to the bridal pair. "To my best friend James Potter, who taught me the value of having someone to laugh with, and to his beautiful bride. I wish you joy in each other, long lives together, enough children to start your own Quidditch team - and pray that they look like their mother, because God help them if they get that hair!"

James was too moved to speak. He saw tears shining in Lily's eyes as they raised their glasses of exquisitely-spiced mulled mead in salute to all those assembled.

* * *

It was ironic, James thought, that on a day supposedly devoted to their union, he was barely able to speak two words to Lily without being interrupted. Of course he appreciated all the good wishes and kind and admiring words, and he was pleased that everyone was having such a marvelous time, but the longer it went on, the more he longed for the moment when he and his new bride would finally have the space to breathe, and the quiet in which to say a few words to one another.

He got his chance when Madam Rosmerta brought a new cask of mead up from the cellar - one she had been saving for special, she said. Lily hung back. Too much mead would not be good for the baby, and she had limited herself to a small measure during Sirius's toast.

James made his way toward her, keeping a wary eye on the increasingly-rowdy celebration, but their attention seemed to be entirely taken up with Rosmerta's glorious golden beverage. Placing a hand on the small of Lily's back, he leaned to whisper in her ear.

"Come on. Let's get out of here for a bit."

It was cold outside, and growing dark as well, but the air was fresh and clear, and the stars twinkled brightly. They walked in silence for a moment before James turned to her, taking her hands in his.

"You look lovely today, Lily," he told her sincerely. "But I imagine you've been told that a hundred times already."

"A hundred and twelve," she acknowledged. "I've been counting. But about forty of those were Remus. Did you see him after the fifth glass of mead? He cried."

"Well, you know Remus loves you," he said with a smile. "Maybe not as much as Sirius, but you're definitely in the top ten."

"So Remus doesn't love me as much as Sirius loves me?" she teased.

"You know what I mean," he said, wrinkling his nose. "And he's right; you do look especially lovely today."

"Really?" she replied. "Because you look as if you've been hit on the head. You've been going around with a stunned look on your face all day. Not having second thoughts, are you?" She said it lightly, but he heard the catch in her voice.

Her eyes looked black in the starlight, and he was lost in them. "Of course not," he said firmly. "How could you think that?"

She bit her lip. "I don't. Not really. It's only - well, you haven't tried to - to touch me or anything since - the one time."

Memory washed over him, and he felt dizzy. Grief. Horror. Lily, soft and sweet under his hands. He shook off the feeling. How could he make her understand? He led her to a bench, and sat facing her, still holding both her hands in his.

"What happened that night between us," he began. "It was wonderful. It was amazing. But it was wrong." When her brow furrowed, he hastened to amend, "Not _wrong_, I don't mean. It just wasn't how I would have wanted it to happen. On the one hand, I guess I'm glad it happened like it did, because we probably wouldn't be where we are now, and we might never have been. But I wanted to do things right with you. I waited for so long, and I should have waited a little more. I was out of control that night. I hardly knew what I was doing. I'm sorry."

She smiled at him with only a trace of sadness in her eyes. "And here was me, thinking I was a horrible person for taking advantage of your grief, and not taking proper precautions. I'm sorry, too."

The apology lightened his mood. "Well, now that we're both a couple of sorry souls, what happens next?"

She laid her head on his shoulder. "I hear Rosmerta's reserved the honeymoon suite for us. It would be a shame to waste it. I mean, we're married now, if you're ready to - er - do things right."

"Do you want to?" he asked, wrapping his cloak around them both against the chill of the night. "I wasn't sure if you would, and I couldn't think how to ask. I was worried maybe you took me the once for pity."

"For pity," she admitted. "For understanding. For admiration. For respect. And for love. I think."

"Do you love me then, Lily?" She had never said it, and he found himself holding his breath.

She was silent for a moment, then, "I do," she said for the second time that day. "I think I have since seventh year." She raised her head to look into his eyes. "I love you, James Potter." She kissed him, long and tenderly. "Now let's go see about that honeymoon suite."

* * *

They sneaked around to the back entrance of the Three Broomsticks, avoiding the noisy taproom, and, intoxicated by the winter air and each other, made their way up the narrow wooden stairs, clinging to one another for support, blushing and giggling nervously. James was just fumbling with the door handle when Lily suddenly laid a restraining hand on his arm.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"What was what?" But by then he had heard it, too: a frantic scuffling sound from inside the room.

James pushed the door open and halted abruptly. "Ah," he said.

"Who's there?" asked Lily, craning to see around him.

A very flushed and tousled Remus and Sirius stood on conspicuously opposite sides of the room, fiddling with the garlands of pine boughs and holly which festooned the walls. James's eyes fell suspiciously upon the bed, but it was neatly made. Too neatly. James recalled the sliderule precision with which Remus had folded the hospital corners on his bed in their schooldays.

"We - ah - weren't expecting you so soon," Remus said, not meeting James's eyes.

"We thought we'd take a bit of a breather," replied James, fixing his fellow Marauders with a gimlet eye. "What are you doing up here?"

"We were just putting the finishing touches on the decorations," volunteered Sirius too quickly. "Do you like them?"

Beneath the greenery, scented candles lit the room with a warm and inviting glow. A bottle of Goblin's Reserve stood open and breathing on a small table, and Sirius fidgeted with it, adjusting the position of the accompanying glasses by a millimetre or so.

"I love them. Especially this one," said Lily, bending over to pick up something small and white, lying on the floor. "It's such a nice touch."

It was a button.

Sirius glanced down at his shirt furtively. "Ah. I think that's mine," he muttered. "I must have - er - caught it on something. While we were decorating."

"Looks like you two have been working awfully hard," commented James with a grin. "Why, Moony's shirt has come all untucked. And turned itself inside out. And I believe you'll find your other shoe just there under the table, Padfoot."

"Yes, well." Remus quickly bent down to retrieve the shoe, then grabbed Sirius by the elbow and dragged him from the room, smiling a little too widely. "We'll just - leave you to it, then, shall we? See you back downstairs in a bit!"

Lily collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles.

"They didn't, did they?" James asked, sitting down beside her.

"I rather expect they did," Lily fizzed. "At least they didn't drink the wine. Pour me a glass, will you, Husband?"

James's heart skipped a beat at the word, but he said, "Are you sure you should be drinking? It's not good for the baby, is it?"

Lily shook her head. "It's Goblin's Reserve," she replied, leaning over to pour it herself.

"What difference does that make?" James asked, puzzled.

"I looked into it," Lily explained. "I wanted something nice for the wedding that I could actually drink. Intoxication in Goblin's Reserve comes from a charm; not from alcohol. That's why it never causes hangovers. It shouldn't have any effect on the baby at all."

"Well in that case -" James took the bottle from her and poured himself a glass of the dark ruby liquid. The bouquet was rich and inviting. He raised the glass. "To Mrs Potter," he said, wondering if she felt the same internal flutter at the words that he did. "May she always suffer fools gladly. Well, one of them, anyway."

The glasses chimed together, and they sipped in silence for a moment, the wine spreading its warming tendrils to the ends of their fingers and chilled toes.

"What's this?" Lily asked curiously, picking up something which lay on the bed's white coverlet. She turned it over in her hands, examining it closely. It was a flower, red as the wine in their glasses. "I thought it was a rose at first, by the colour, but it's not."

"It's a red lily," he said softly.

She looked up at him in surprise. "There's no such thing."

"There is. But I couldn't get a real one." He could not suppress a small, triumphant smile. "I made it. For you."

"Oh." She looked down at the flower again. "James, this is beautiful."

"I snuck up here earlier," he confessed. He gestured toward the place where it had lain. "I just thought how lovely you would look, lying there. How lovely you looked that night."

"Oh, so you _do_ want to?" she teased with a deliciously wicked grin. She gently placed the lily next to the half-empty bottle, and turned toward him. "Well, I'm glad Remus and Sirius didn't squash it."

"You know, I think I like you when you're pissed, Evans," he commented. "You're almost as bad as I am."

"I'm not pissed!" she protested. "I'm barely on my second glass." But her face was flushed and her eyes sparkled in the candlelight.

James had never seen a more beautiful sight in all his life. "Come here and prove it then, my Red Lily."

_This time,_ he thought as he tasted the wine on her lips and felt her smooth, warm flesh under his hands and the heat of desire between her thighs, _it's right._

They barely made it back downstairs by midnight to ring in the new year.


	4. I Call it Service

_Well, I live here with a woman and a child._  
_The situation makes me kind of nervous._  
_Yes, I rise up from her arms, she says, "I guess you call this love."_  
_I call it service._

_Why don't you come on back to the war? Don't be a tourist._  
_Why don't you come on back to the war, before it hurts us?_  
_Why don't you come on back to the war? Let's all get nervous._

Lily lay in bed, looking out at the rain streaming down the windowpane, glad not to have to move just yet. The changes in her body caused her to tire easily these days, and despite its reputation, the Mediterranean coast was not as balmy in January as one might wish, and was no competition for a warm, comfortable bed. She wallowed and luxuriated, listening to the rush of water and off-key singing that was James in the shower.

Lily's pregnancy meant that they had resorted to Muggle transportation for their honeymoon, and James had been so taken with the idea that he had insisted that they live the entire week "as Muggles". This was all well and good for Lily, who had been born and raised outside the Wizarding world, but James's pure-blood heritage meant that relatively simple things like light switches, telephones, and electric kettles were an endless source of amusement and consternation. Now, on the third day of their honeymoon, he finally seemed to be getting the hang of it, but Lily was sure it would not be long before he gave up and retrieved his wand from the bottom of their luggage.

A moment later, he came into the bedroom naked, steaming and rubbing a towel over his head. He tossed it aside and collapsed onto the bed beside her with a sigh of contentment. Rolling over, he looked at her for a moment, grinning.

"Gaius," he said.

She wrinkled her nose. "'Gaius'? Really?"

"It's a good name," he replied, affronted. "What's wrong with 'Gaius'?"

"It's fine," she soothed, stroking his still-damp back. "If, as I have mentioned before, we were giving birth to a Roman emperor."

"You don't like any of my suggestions," he complained.

"It's not that I don't like them," she said carefully. "It's just - well, they're all either names of your friends, or emperors. I think the only emperor you haven't suggested yet is 'Severus'."

"You _wouldn't_," James said in horror.

"It's no worse than your suggestions," she admonished.

He shot her a dirty look, then sat up and began counting on his fingers. "You said 'no' to 'Sirius' for this time, you said Moony said 'no' to 'Remus', and you _know_ we can't use 'Peter' if we're not going to use 'Sirius' or 'Remus'. You said 'Albus' sounds too old, 'Rubeus' sounds too big, 'Alastor' sounds to paranoid, and 'Aloysius' sounds too much like the Minister for Magic." He threw up his hands in theatrical disgust.

"It could be a girl, you know," she said critically.

"Great!" replied James. "There's a whole new list of my suggestions you can turn down!" He closed his eyes and lay back against the pillows, still gently steaming in the cool air.

Lily crawled over to rest her chin on his chest. "I have an idea."

"You get to pick the name?" he said without opening his eyes.

"No," she told him. "Or maybe. There was a tradition in my family. Well, not a tradition, but it's what my parents did. My - my mother told me." She swallowed a lump in her throat and continued. "She said that she and my dad couldn't agree on names for us, either, so they decided that if the baby was a girl, my dad got to choose the name, and my mum got to choose the godmother, and if it was a boy, Mum would choose the name, and Dad, the godfather."

James's eyes were open now, and he was staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. "That sounds fair," he said at last. "What's a godfather?"

* * *

It turned out that girls' names were harder to choose than boys'. While traditional wizard names tended toward greatness bordering on pomposity, the witches of ages past all had names that made them sound like great aunts, and James was loathe to inflict any of them upon a helpless infant. In the end, he had to ask Lily for help.

"What about family names?" she suggested as they boarded the train that would take them north across France. "Surely there are a few to choose from?"

James made a face. "My grandmothers were 'Iphigenia' and 'Furdena'. Mum and Dad didn't have any sisters."

"What about your mum, though?" Lily asked gently. "'Eleanor' is a pretty name."

"It is," he agreed.

James did not really feel ready to think about either of his parents very much. Their loss still cut him deeply. But to name his child, conceived on the day of their deaths, for his mother seemed somehow fitting.

_Maybe she'll even look like Mum,_ he thought.

It was the first time he had thought about the baby in anything but abstract terms. He took a deep breath and stepped away from the chasm of grief.

"What was your mother's name?" He realised he had never asked.

She blushed slightly and turned her eyes toward the train's window, where the vineyards and countryside flashed past. "Rose."

He grinned. "Lily, Petunia, and Rose, eh?"

She smiled in acknowledgment. "Daddy would call us his Flower Girls. Mum always rolled her eyes, but it made me feel - special. Like I belonged."

"Rose," he repeated. "Eleanor Rose Potter. I like it."

"I do, too." She kissed him softly.

"Have you picked a name yet?" he asked curiously. While she had offered many opinions concerning his suggestions, she had made none of her own.

She hesitated a moment and glanced at him. "I thought I might - name him for my father. When I first found out I was a witch, I was a little bit scared," she explained. "But he was so pleased for me. You should have seen him when we went to Diagon Alley the first time. He was like a kid in a candy shop. He - he loved fairy tales and - and he was so excited to find out it was all r-real."

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and James gathered her into his arms. He held her in silence, resting his cheek against the crown of her coppery head until the moment had passed.

"What was his name?" he asked gently.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief she had found in his pocket. "Harlow. But he hated it," she added hastily, though he had made no immediate objection. "Everyone called him 'Harry'. I thought maybe -"

James kissed her nose. "'Harry' it is, then," he declared. "Have you picked out a middle name as well?"

She smiled at him and sniffled again. "I rather like 'James'."

* * *

"_Ow!_" cried Sirius as the chair beneath him toppled and he landed gracelessly on the floor.

"If you can't reach," James admonished, "then get Moony to do it, Padfoot."

"Moony's getting drinks," Sirius replied, rubbing his elbow. "I can manage."

"The baby's not due for another five months," Lily reminded him. "I'm sure it can wait until Remus gets back from the kitchen."

She was not certain how Sirius, the shortest of the three men, had landed the job of hanging the Quidditch mobile above the bassinet, but he seemed determined to complete the task himself.

The four of them were spending the bright, March day setting up the nursery in Lily and James's new home in Godric's Hollow. Well, James and Sirius and Remus were setting up the nursery. Lily had been informed in no uncertain terms that she was not to lift a finger, so she sat in a rocking chair, presiding over the arrangements, viewing the enthusiastic father- and uncles-to-be with amusement.

Remus returned carrying a tray. "Beer," he announced. "And tea."

As if compelled by a Summoning Charm, James and Sirius dropped what they were doing, and homed in on the chilled brown bottles, as Remus set the tray down on the changing table and passed Lily a steaming mug and a plate of chocolate biscuits. James and Sirius savoured the foamy nectar in silence for a moment, before returning to their self-appointed task of trying to make the pastel-coloured animals on the nursery walls move.

Remus sat on the floor next to Lily, cradling a second mug between his hands. "Padfoot says James has asked him to be the baby's godfather," he said.

Lily nodded. "I was wondering when he'd get around to asking him."

"I was surprised," said Remus. "I didn't think Prongs or Padfoot knew what a godfather was."

"Well, it's definitely not a Wizarding tradition." Lily smiled. "But I explained it to James, and he seemed to like the idea of having an extra guardian for the baby. If anything should happen to us -"

Remus reached up to squeeze her hand. "Things won't be like this forever, Lils," he assured her.

"I know," she replied. "But it certainly can't hurt for the baby to have someone else looking out for it."

Remus smiled, but looked slightly troubled. "I'm sure Padfoot will do a good job. You should have seen him when he told me. I thought he was going to cry."

Lily read his look correctly. "Sirius is his best friend," she reminded him. "You know he's always going to choose him. It's not that he thought you wouldn't do as good a job."

"I know." Remus looked wistful.

Lily could not hide a grin. "Oh, what the hell," she said. "I was going to wait and tell you after dinner, but I can't. Remus, I want you to be the baby's godfather."

Remus looked confused. "But - Prongs already told Padfoot -"

"You know how Sirius is," Lily smiled. "He gets all excited, and forgets to mention the details. James and I agreed that he gets to choose the godfather if it's a boy, and I get to choose if it's a girl. I know that, technically, for a girl, I should be choosing a godmother, but -"

"But a werewolf fairy godfather is just as good?" Remus said with a wry grin.

She laughed at that. "No, I just couldn't imagine choosing anyone but you, Remus."

"Oh," he said, and grinned. "Well, I'll try not to be too disappointed if it's a boy."

She returned the grin. "If you lose out this time, next time I'll insist on you. James will have to learn just how stubborn the Evans women are eventually."

"I look forward to the challenge," said James, coming to join the conversation.

The wide-eyed, fluffy bears on the wallpaper appeared to be rolling around in agony, but Lily decided to ignore them for the moment, as James bent to kiss her. She could always re-charm them later.

James sat down opposite Remus to finish his beer, but Sirius stood, looking at her oddly.

"What's up, Padfoot?" Remus asked, reaching a hand up to his lover.

Sirius shook his head. "I just wanted to say - Lily, Prongs - James, I mean -" He went to his knees before her, hands clasped together as if in prayer. "I want you to know - both of you - I swear to you that, whatever happens, and whether this baby is a boy or a girl, it will have both of us. And I will do everything in my power to guard it from whatever comes."

Lily's throat felt tight. She had never heard such sincerity from Sirius before, but she suddenly understood why both James and Remus esteemed him so highly. She laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Sirius," she said. "It's a comfort to me to know that, whatever may happen, my baby will be loved and cared for." She smiled. "Not that it will need much extra protection, with an Auror for a father."

"Nevertheless," Sirius replied, "I swear it."

His eyes were fixed on her midsection, and Lily gently took his hand and placed it on the slight bump that was just beginning to show. She took Remus's hand as well, and she felt their fingers clasp tightly together, cradling her child. She looked into each of their faces - Remus, pale and intent - Sirius, awed and determined - James, capable and fiercely proud - and she smiled with the knowledge that none could harm her child while these three stood in the way.

* * *

As the child grew within her and she began to feel its movements, Lily's thoughts turned more and more to family matters. She thought of her parents, and often wept that she could not talk with her mother about her pregnancy - that her father would never hold his grandchild. And she thought about Petunia. She had not tried to contact her sister again since before the wedding, but she found herself wondering if their shared condition might not reconcile them, as their differences had once torn them apart. Family was so precious, and she had so little; she made up her mind to do whatever she could to bridge the gap between their worlds.

James insisted on going with her this time. "She's my sister now, too," he said. "I want to meet her."

After hearing stories of Lily's parents, he could not believe that they could have raised a child unreasonable and closed-minded enough to disregard a family bond for reasons which could not be helped.

"I don't even know why it happened," Lily confessed to him as they made their way to Little Whinging. "She stopped writing to me at school in sixth year, after Dumbledore let her visit over the Christmas holidays, but I figured she was busy. And then, when I came home for the summer, she was always out. I was sad, but I thought we were just growing apart."

"I take it that wasn't the case?" James asked.

She shook her head. "I went to her room to try and talk to her one night, a few days before going back to school. I started to tell her how sorry I was that we hadn't spent more time together that summer, but she laid into me. She has a sharper tongue than me." She smiled ruefully.

"Hard to believe," replied James, shaking his head. "What was the problem?"

Lily's brow furrowed. "She never said exactly. Just started going off about 'my kind of people', and how disgusting and unnatural they were. I was so surprised, I couldn't think what to say. I didn't come home that Christmas or Easter, and by summer my parents had -" Tears spilled from her emerald eyes. "I saw her at the - funeral. Sh-she didn't speak to me at all then."

"Hush," murmured James, giving her a squeeze. "Don't worry. Even if things don't work out this time, there'll be other chances to smooth things over. You never know; she might have a little witch or wizard in the cauldron as we speak."

Lily hiccoughed and giggled at that. "Oh, she would _hate_ that! But she'd have to face it then - our world."

"Of course she will," James replied encouragingly. "And we'll have the sprogling over all the time. I'll teach the wee cousins to play Quidditch, and -"

He broke off as a two cloaked and hooded figures stepped from the shadows, wands in hand. James sidestepped them and drew his wand, but Lily was not so quick. One of them grabbed her arm. Her cry of surprise was cut short as she and her captor Disapparated with a _pop_ from the quiet Muggle street.

"Where is she?" demanded James. He and the second figure circled one another, wands at the ready.

James saw the edge of a slow, cold smile within the shadows of the cloak's hood. "Kill me," hissed a soft, female voice, "and you'll never know."

* * *

The baby kicked hard, and Lily thought she might throw up. Clearly it objected to Apparition. Lily was not very enamoured of it at the moment, either. She was in a cold, damp room. Torchlight flickered from the stone walls, and was swallowed up by the dark robes of the three hooded figures who stood with their wands trained on her.

Her eyes flickered to the room's only door, but the instant she moved, there was a loud _bang_, and black cords wound themselves tightly around her wrists and ankles. She stumbled and would have fallen, but one of the hooded figures grasped her arm. His other hand deftly extracted her wand from the inner pocket of her robes and probed her belly with rude familiarity.

"Are you with child, woman?" he demanded in a harsh voice.

"What if I am?" she spat through gritted teeth, trying ineffectually to pull herself away.

"When did you conceive?" he asked, grip tightening painfully on her arm.

"I don't see how that's any of your damn business," she said icily. "Where is my husband?"

A second, larger figure stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face. "When?" he demanded, voice edged in brutality.

"October," she admitted reluctantly, not seeing how it could possibly make any difference.

With a _pop_, James appeared in the room, hands bound behind his back. His face was bruised, and a short, cloaked figure held him by the arm, two wands in its free hand.

"James!" she cried.

"Lily! Are you all right?" He appeared shaken but unharmed.

"_This_ is your husband?" hissed the man gripping her arm. His voice was full of loathing.

"Yes." She tried to look him in the eye, to see if she could recognise him, but the hood was pulled forward to hide his face, and the dim lighting kept him in shadow.

"Very well," he muttered, then raised his voice. "The Dark Lord has graciously allowed you both this one chance to bind yourselves to his glorious cause."

Lily's mouth dropped open in shock, but the words were met with a storm of protest from the other Death Eaters.

"That wasn't the deal," screeched the woman holding James.

A thin man inclined his head toward James. "He can join. The Dark Lord said that was all right. Not her."

"She dies," declared the man who had slapped her. "We all heard. The Dark Lord told us where they would be. Two members of the Order, he said, and we were to make sure the woman was dead. Besides," he added scornfully, "she's a mudblood. You know that as well as I do."

"Even mudbloods may have their uses," replied Lily's captor. "Now that I see her, I recall that she is most skilled in the art of Potions. The Dark Lord may have a use for her."

The brutal man snorted. "I've already put that one to the only use she's good for. Not that I'd mind having another go before we finish her off," he added.

"What?" Lily's voice was blank with shock and confusion. "Who -?"

Her husband was viewing the big man with an unreadable look on his face.

"James!" she cried. "It's not true! I never -"

The man holding her gave her a violent shake, and she bit her tongue.

The big man was laughing now. "She doesn't remember me! Well, I remember her. "

The thin man turned to James. "Very well, then. Join us," he said almost lazily. "Or we kill you, and all of us will have your whore before she dies."

Lily set her jaw in defiance. She was damned if she would let any one of them harm James or the baby.

James was red-faced and sputtering with rage. "The man who touches her, dies," he declared.

"I have a better idea," said the big man, laughter still dripping from his words. "Join us, or I kill the woman, _then_ have her, as your spawn struggles and dies inside her." His teeth flashed in the candlelight as he grinned. "Then maybe I'll let you taste her one more time before you die. On my cock."

James cursed and struggled against his bonds as Lily screamed with rage.

_Take my wand._ The voice cut through the white-hot fury of her mind.

"What?" she gasped, looking around. "Who -?"

_Know me,_ the voice echoed in her ears, though no one else seemed to hear it. The other three hooded figures had turned their attention from her and her captor for the moment, and were laughing and taunting her enraged husband.

She turned her eyes toward the man who held her. "Severus?" she breathed.

His grip on her tightened painfully. _Shut up!_ said his voice in her head. _Don't look at me. Look at them._

She turned her face back to her struggling husband and his tormentors, just as the big man raised his wand.

"_Crucio!_"

James's scream drowned out Lily's heart-cry. Snape's thin fingers dug into her flesh.

_Take my wand,_ said his voice. _Quickly, while they are not looking. Take it! Confund them._

She did not wait to be told twice. The others were still watching James writhe in agony as Lily fumblingly grabbed the proffered wand in her bound hands. Snape waited for her to get a good grip on it and get it pointed at the little group before he gave a cry of feigned surprise, and fell backward, as if pushed. All eyes turned toward her.

"_Confundio!_" cried Lily.

The three Death Eaters stood blinking stupidly at her. James lay staring at the ceiling, as though unsure what it was.

Snape swiftly helped her remove her bonds, and handed her back her wand, plucking his own from her fingers.

"Go quickly," he said, not looking at her. "Take your - _husband_ and go."

She stared at him. "You're with them. The Death Eaters."

He nodded curtly.

"Voldemort wants us dead - me dead - and my baby. Why?"

He pursed his lips and shook his head, touching his finger to his throat. _An Unbreakable Vow,_ the words were harsh in her mind, as if it pained him to tell her even that much. "Go!" he rasped.

She touched his arm. "Why are you doing this for us?"

"For you," he told her. "I've wronged you, though I did not know it until today. I must ask your forgiveness, though I may not tell you why." His eyes met hers at last. "This one thing I can tell you: if the child is born female, she will be safe - as safe as any - and so will you."

"Severus -" Tears welled up in her eyes and her throat tightened with an emotion she could not name.

"I would have been good to you, Lily," he said softly.

For one brief instant, her lips touched his. "You _have_ been good to me, Severus," she whispered. "Thank you."

She turned away then, and dropped to her knees, grabbing her Confunded husband's hand and plucking his wand from the limp fingers of the female Death Eater. And then they were gone.

* * *

James shook his head and glanced around suspiciously. He was in his own sitting room, but somehow that seemed wrong. His entire body ached abominably, and his wrists appeared to be tied together behind him.

"Lily? What are we doing?" he asked his wife, puzzled.

She was behind him, tugging at the cords binding him.

"You don't remember?" she asked in a low voice.

"No."

With a final tug, his hands were free. He rubbed at the red marks as Lily guided him to the sofa. She sat with her arms wrapped tight around him for a moment, not saying anything. When he laid a hand on the back of her neck, she looked up at him, eyes filled with tears, and it all came rushing back to him. He began to shake.

"Oh, _God!_" he cried, gathering her into his arms. "Oh, God, Lily! Are you all right?"

She shook her head, sobbing against his shoulder. He took her by the shoulders and held her at arms length, examining her critically for injury.

"Did he hurt you? Did Rabastan Lestrange lay a hand on you?" he demanded.

"Lestrange?" she sniffled. "Was that him? How do you know?"

James's eyes dropped away from her face. "I - er - well, who else could be that twisted? Did he hurt you?"

She stroked his cheek. "I'm not hurt, Love," she assured him. "But I'm not all right either. James, they were after me - after our baby."

James was shocked. "What? Why?"

Lily shook her head. "I don't know. Severus couldn't say."

"_Snivellus!_" he cried. "That _bastard_ was one of them?! I'll kill him! I should never have saved him!"

"James!" She squeezed his hands tight in hers. "James, yes, Severus was there with them. But he's the one who let us go."

She told him briefly about the voice in her mind, and as much as Snape had been able to tell her about their child, but she did not go so far as to mention the kiss.

"He knows something," James said, stunned. "About the baby. And Voldemort does, too."

"He knew more than that, James," she said softly. "He knew where to find us in a place where we wouldn't be protected. How did he know that?"

James shook his head. "If Voldemort had them looking for us in Little Whinging -"

"- then someone must have told him we'd be there," she finished for him. A lump of ice settled in the pit of her stomach. "Who did you tell, James?"

* * *

"I should have informed you sooner." Dumbledore said regretfully.

The three of them sat in the headmaster's office the morning after the attack. Lily had just given a reasonably full account of events, and voiced her suspicions concerning the existence of an informer.

The old wizard sighed. "A prophecy was made this past winter concerning a boy to be born at the end of July," he admitted. "A boy who may be the one to defeat Voldemort once and for all."

"A prophecy?" Lily inquired skeptically. She had never thought much of Divination. "Made by whom?"

"That does not matter," Dumbledore told her. "What matters is that Voldemort knows it was made. As long as he believes it to be true, no child who fits the terms of prophecy is safe."

Lily rested a hand on the swell of her belly. "He knows when my baby is due," she said. "And he knew where we would be last night."

Dumbledore's usually smiling mouth tightened. "Someone will have told him."

"But," Lily protested, "most of our friends know when the baby is due!"

"Whoever gave Voldemort this information is no friend to you," the old man reminded her gently.

"I told them," James said miserably. He had spoken very little since their narrow escape, and Lily suspected that he felt ashamed at not having been able to protect her. "I told Sirius and Remus and Peter we were going to visit Lily's sister. But it can't be. Not one of them. Someone must have overheard."

"No one else knew of your whereabouts?" Dumbledore asked.

James ran his fingers through hair already standing on end, and shook his head. "Not that I know of, Sir."

Lily was struggling not to cry, but between the horrors of the previous evening, the sleepless night that had followed, and the surging hormones of pregnancy, it was difficult to stop the tears from coming. Her husband's three best friends, and one of them perhaps a traitor. It was a terrible thought.

"Is it our child, then?" she asked. "Severus said that if it's a girl -"

Dumbledore's frown deepened. "I do not know. There may be others, but to my knowledge, the only magical children due near the end of July are your own and Frank and Alice Longbottom's."

Lily gasped. In her fear and worry, she had forgotten that Alice's baby was due so close to her own.

"You have to tell them!" Lily cried. "Are they all right?"

Dumbledore raised his hands, gesturing for her to calm herself. With a wave of his wand, flagons of cold spiced pumpkin juice appeared before them.

"The Longbottoms are well," Dumbledore assured them. "They, too, were attacked last night by a second band of Death Eaters, but they were also lucky enough to escape without injury. Frank informed me right away. I told them of the prophecy, and they are taking precautions."

James looked up. "What sort of precautions? What can we do?"

Dumbledore laced his long fingers together. "I will have someone from the Order come and strengthen the protections on your home. Alastor Moody, perhaps."

"Constant vigilance," murmured James.

He and the headmaster exchanged a brief, rueful smile. Both of them knew from firsthand experience that none were more scrupulous about protection charms than the paranoid old Auror. Lily, too, knew his reputation, and she immediately felt better at the thought of having matters in his capable - if eccentric - hands.

"What else can we do?" asked Lily.

"Keep your friends close," Dumbledore told them. "Do not turn against them. True friends are beyond value in times of difficulty. It may be that Voldemort obtained his information in some other way."

Lily and James nodded solemnly.

"On the other hand," the old headmaster continued, "it may be the unfortunate truth that you have a traitor in your midst. Watch carefully. James, use your training. The more time you spend in your friends' company, the more likely it is that you will be able to discover the identity of the traitor - if there is one. But be careful what you say, and to whom. Be vague about your movements and your plans."

"We will," James promised. "And if we suspect anyone, we'll let you know straight away."

Dumbledore nodded. "I can ask no more of you than that."

They rose to take their leave, but Lily turned back at the door. "Headmaster, do you believe in prophecies?" she asked.

He sighed. "I have seen too much in this life to rule out the possibility entirely. However, it is my experience that prophecies are most often fulfilled by people who believe in them. Do you understand, child?"

She nodded hesitantly. "I think I see. People believe something will happen a certain way, so they make their plans accordingly, which indirectly results in fulfillment of the prophecy."

"Quite right." The familiar smile was back on his lips. "I always thought you were one of the brightest witches ever to attend this school."

"Well, then, let's just hope I'm bright enough to beat this thing," she said with an answering smile.

* * *

She was looking at her hands through the gray dishwater when he came up behind her and slid his arms around her, cupping her bulging belly protectively and kissing her lightly on the ear. Almost all the suds had gone.

"Did you forget again, Sweetheart?" he teased.

She shrugged him off and snapped, "Forget what? Did I forget to do every little thing with my wand? Or did I forget that I'm not supposed to do bloody _anything_ because of my 'delicate condition'?"

He put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry, Lils. I didn't mean - you're dripping on the floor." He reached for a towel to wipe her hands.

"Don't patronise me, James Potter," she muttered, snatching the towel from him and scrubbing savagely at her soap-reddened hands.

He sighed. "Don't snap at me, Lily. You know I didn't ask for this any more than you did."

She knew it was true. She did not like how irritable she had become of late, but her fears about the future had her wound tight as a spring, and the muggy summer weather did not help.

She looked away. "I'm sorry, James. It's just -"

"I know," he said, patting her arm reassuringly. "It's hot. Things are crazy. Go sit down. I'll bring you some iced pumpkin juice."

She went into the sitting room, which was marginally cooler than the kitchen, and stared moodily out the window at the very ordinary street beyond, not seeing it. Normally, it was James who sat here, alert, watching. Every sound made him jump - every movement was a potential threat to his family. Her fears ran deeper. She knew they were safe enough here, but the future was a terrifying unknown.

James brought in two glasses, and a plate of Ginger Newts. Lily normally loved the spicy, lizard-shaped biscuits, but she was awash with nerves, and her throat felt too dry to swallow. Instead, she took a sip of juice.

James grinned and raised his glass in a toast. "To my brave and beautiful wife," he declared. "And to Incipient Potter, saviour of Wizardkind and the stuff of legend."

He was trying to lighten the mood and put up a brave front, she knew, but it was too much.

"You just don't understand, do you, James?" she said heatedly, setting down her drink. "This is just another adventure to you - one more thing you can brag about. 'There goes James Potter! You know he's the father of the man who destroyed Voldemort?' You _hope_ it's a boy, don't you?" she asked suddenly, green eyes sharp with accusation.

"I never said -"

"No, but you do, don't you?" she cut him off. "You _want_ our child to fulfill this stupid prophecy and be the one to bring down Voldemort and be this big, famous _thing_, but you don't _get it_, do you? A baby is not going to end this war. It doesn't matter if the prophecy is true or not; until that evil bastard is dead, the three of us are at the centre of a war zone. Is that what you want for your child?"

"No!" he said quickly, before she could cut him off again. "It could still be a girl. And it could still be born in August."

"But I don't want to have to hold my breath and wish for that, James." There were tears in her eyes now. "Girl or boy, July or August, I want my baby to have a normal, boring, ordinary, _safe_ existence. I don't want him growing up under that kind of pressure, with people whispering about him and treating him like an oddity, thinking he has some sort of destiny, and can't choose his own path. You may think it's brilliant and exciting, but you would have _hated_ it if it had been you. Don't tell me you wouldn't."

James deflated as if she had stuck a pin in him. "You're right," he admitted. "I would have ignored it and denied it and tried to fight it. And I probably would have been ten times more arrogant that I was, thinking I was some kind of living legend." He looked at her. "I want this war to be done with. I don't want this child to even remember it, except as something in books - some boring old war his elders never stop going on about. If there's a way we can make it happen, we'll find it. If I can help it, this child will never even know there was a prophecy."

* * *

Lily's time was drawing near. The days were long and hot, and the nights were not nearly cool enough for an expectant mother. No matter what she did, she could not get comfortable. The child squirmed impatiently inside her, and she kicked off the covers in disgust.

The days and nights of July crawled past, and the month seemed to stretch on into eternity. She would never make it to August. She would go mad waiting for a month that would never come.

_My baby's not even born yet,_ she thought. _And already people want him dead - people I don't know - people I've never even seen. And one person I _do _know. Maybe._

The thought brought a chill with it, but not a welcome one. It was one thing to know one had chosen a side in something that might mean one's death, but it was something else entirely to know that the other side meant to do whatever it could to kill one's child. Anxiety compounded the nausea of pregnancy, and she hardly ate anything anymore. Sleep came only with utter exhaustion.

She was bored and irritable. She and James hardly left the safety of their home - an unexpected memo had been sent from the Ministry's Department of Mysteries to the Auror office, granting James extended paid leave - and they barely spoke to one another anymore either; there was only one thing on their minds, and talking about it only made it worse. He tried to distract her with games, or by reading to her, but she could not focus on anything going on outside her own body, and neither could he.

There were things she could have done. She could have been cooking, which she normally loved, or tidying around the house, but James would not let her do anything. He treated her like an invalid. She understood why, of course, but she still hated it. He was trying to prolong her pregnancy as much as possible; trying to ensure that their child would not be born a moment before the stroke of midnight which heralded the coming of the eighth month.

The only thing she could do to distract herself without James having a fit, was make more baby clothes, and she was fairly certain that her child already had enough to see him through his first year. If Voldemort let him live that long.

She was not sure when she had begun thinking of the baby as a "him". Part of her - the part still attempting rationality - told her that she was only trying to prepare herself for the worst. But the rest of her knew. She talked to him when James would not hear. She called him Harry. There would be no little Eleanor. Not that year, and maybe not ever. Harry moved more restlessly within her every day.

Remus and Sirius tried to distract her, as well. She was grateful to them, and they tried to come by as often as they could, but they were very busy - Remus with the Order, and Sirius at the Ministry - and their visits brought a different kind of anxiety.

_Is it one of them?_ she wondered. _Which one?_

She found herself looking for clues in tone, inflection, body language. She found none, and too many.

Worse, they knew it. After she and James were attacked, Remus and Sirius had been frantic, but they were not stupid, and they quickly worked out that it was something more sinister than a random attack.

James had never been able to keep a secret from his friends, but Lily wished that, just this once, he had kept his silence. Instead, he had told them that Voldemort was after them, and about Dumbledore's suspicions of a spy. At least he did not mention the prophecy.

Now, whenever they were there, Lily caught them casting glances at one another; suspicion, speculation, worry, fear, despair. Watching them crumble broke her heart by inches.

_Our doom is spreading to poison our friends. Voldemort will take all our joy until we wish he had killed us after all._

* * *

She was squinting at a crooked seam, cursing her sweaty, swollen fingers under her breath, when the owl arrived on the twenty-ninth of July, its wings catching the evening light. She did not recognise the bird, but the handwriting was unmistakable.

_F has informed me that he and A have summoned a midwife._  
_- AD_

She knew what it meant: The Longbottoms' baby was coming before theirs. James heard the clatter of the owl's talons on the wood of the windowsill, and came to read the message over her shoulder.

He said nothing, but she knew what he felt. She felt it too: the guilty hope that the Longbottoms' baby would be a boy, and the cloud of doom hanging over their own heads would dispel. But she could not wish it. Not on her friends.

_Better them than us,_ whispered a tiny, nasty voice. She immediately squashed it.

That night, she could not sleep. So she prayed. She prayed silently to anyone or anything that might be listening. There were no words to her prayer; only names.

_Alice,_ she prayed. _Frank. Their baby. James. Remus. Sirius. Me. Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry -_ She squinched her eyes shut tight, and gritted her teeth, as if to make the prayer stick by sheer force of will. Her fingers stroked the tight curve of her belly.

When morning came, she struggled out of bed more weary than she had come to it, and went to make a pot of tea. The day passed in near-silence. At every sound, they turned as one to glance out the nearest window. Dumbledore would send word again when he knew.

It was growing dark once more when word arrived on wingbeats and talons. This message was as brief as the last. Alice had given birth to a son, Neville. Mother and child were in good health.

_Poor Alice,_ Lily thought. _Her health may be good, but her mental state is likely as frazzled as mine._

"But that means it's them, doesn't it?" asked James, breaking the silence.

Lily shook her head. "The prophecy isn't _real_, James; only Voldemort's belief in it. We could still have a boy, and he could still be born before midnight tomorrow. And he will be," she added softly, touching her husband's hand.

James looked at her, concerned. "Is it starting? How do you feel?"

"I'm all right," she assured him. "But it will start soon. I can feel it."

* * *

That night, she slept. And she dreamed.

_She can feel the baby coming. It doesn't hurt - not exactly - but she can feel it. James is standing beside her. There is a scar on his forehead. _

_"Where did you get that?" she asks._

_He raises a hand in surprise to touch it. "You did that," he tells her. "Don't you remember?" His eyes are wrong. They look too much like her own._

_"The baby's coming," she gasps, reaching for him. "Help me."_

_He shakes his head and steps away. "She's dead," he tells her. "A life for a life."_

_"She? But - it's a boy. I _know _it's a boy."_

_"It's the boy who lived," he says, laughing bitterly. There is blood on his hands._

_"No!" she cries, hands going to her belly._

_She presses her fingers into her flesh, trying to find some movement - some sign of life. Pain seizes her like a fist._

She was awake and struggling against hands in the darkness.

"Stop!" cried her husband. "You'll hurt yourself!"

"James!" she sobbed, clutching at his wrists. "James, the baby's dead!"

"What?! Are you hurt, Lily?"

She breathed once, twice. Everything seemed quiet except the pounding of her heart.

"I think I'm all right," she said uncertainly.

His hands left hers and went to light a candle beside the bed. The flickering light reflected off the tears on her cheeks. He lay back down beside her and gathered her into his arms.

"It was just a bad dream, Lily," he said, kissing her ear. "Hush, now. It's gone."

"But he's not moving," she sniffled. "And it hurt."

"Where does it hurt?" he soothed, stroking her belly gently.

"_There!_" she gasped as the flesh rippled under his hand. All the muscles in her abdomen seemed to clench at once.

"_Jesus!_" James backed away from her in alarm. It took him a moment to realise what was happening. "The baby's coming _now_, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said through clenched teeth, as the pain receded once more.

Aside even from the pain, the loss of control over her own body was terrifying. It felt like the opposite of the complete abandonment of self which came at the moment of climax, and she knew she had had only a taste of what was to come. She reached to grasp her husband's hands.

"James, I'm scared." She could not keep a tremor from her voice.

"It's going to be all right," he said, but he sounded almost as nervous as she was. "Should I call the midwife now, do you think?"

"No, not yet. Just - stay with me James. Talk to me. Tell me stories."

"Stories? What kind of stories?"

"Tell me - tell me about the Marauders. Good things. Happy things. Stuff from before -" She broke off with a gasp as another contraction gripped her.

"Go on," she told him when it had passed. "Tell me something funny."

"All right," he said, a little uncertainly. "Well, there was this one time Sirius made Polyjuice potion -"

She laughed breathlessly. "Polyjuice potion? Why have I never heard about this?"

* * *

The night wore down into the dawn. Red head and black bent together, talking and breathing by turns, terrified, but also excited. Lily knew she should get up and walk to help move things along, but unspoken, they were still trying to prolong the inevitable. August was less than a day away now, but in her current state, it seemed like forever.

When her water broke shortly after sunrise, James summoned a St Mungo's midwife in the fire, and sent messages to Remus, Sirius, and Dumbledore. They would want to know.

"But what if it's Remus or Sirius who -?"

"It's not," he cut her off. "It can't be. Not one of them."

It didn't matter. Word would get out, in any case, once the child was born. They were as safe as they could be in their home.

The midwife arrived first. She was a kindly, no-nonsense woman of middle years, tall and wiry with flyaway gray hair. Lily had had several meetings with her over the course of her pregnancy, and before that, knew her from her work at St Mungo's.

"Good morning, Renata," she said, smiling a little shyly.

"Good morning, Lily. James," she nodded to him. "How are we doing so far?"

They gave her the details of Lily's condition, to which she half-listened with her eyes closed and her hands resting lightly on Lily's belly.

"Is he all right, do you think?" Lily asked anxiously. "Only, he hasn't been moving much since last night."

"They usually don't once things get started," she assured the young couple. "Everything seems fine."

"How long do you think it will be?" asked James, biting his lip and glancing at the clock.

"Hard to say," Renata replied, checking Lily's vital signs. "Things don't seem to be getting down to business just yet. Could be hours. Could be more. Could be less. First pregnancies usually mean a long labour. You've probably got time to fix us a pot of tea," she hinted.

Remus and Sirius arrived not long after the tea, and James brought two more mugs into the bedroom. Remus still looked pale and drained from the full moon only a few days before. He took Lily's hand and kissed her on the sweaty forehead while Sirius grinned at James.

In the excitement of the moment, their friends seemed to have forgotten their suspicion of one another. They held hands in white-knuckled excitement during Lily's contractions, and cast one another shy, foolish grins every time it seemed like progress was being made.

It was a long day. The three men took turns running and fetching for Lily and the midwife. They encouraged the young mother to take small sips of water between her contractions, and brought her a continuous stream of cool, damp cloths. It was too dangerous to cast a cooling charm on an expectant mother; a sudden drop in body temperature might harm the baby.

Around teatime, James sent another message to Dumbledore. _No word yet,_ it read. _Will let you know. - JP._

The hours crawled by.

"Hold on just a little longer, Love," James begged her.

The midwife did not understand. "It's better to get it over with quickly," she told James. "Can't you see she's wearing herself out? She can't keep this up forever, you know."

"I know," replied James, blushing. "It's just -"

"We were told -" Lily gasped as another contraction came on, "- that a July birth would be - ill-omened."

Renata clicked her tongue, and Remus and Sirius looked surprised. Lily had never been one to set much store by Divination.

"Nonsense," the midwife said, patting her firmly on the knee. "Don't pay any mind to such folly. Omens! _Pah!_ You'd better make your minds up to it, my ducks, since a July birth is what you're likely to have."

Night fell, and the faces inside the cottage showed the strain of the long, anxiety-filled day. It was not until just before midnight that an owl swooped away into the night on silent wings. Not that they truly needed to send word to Dumbledore; the name of every magical child in Britain was recorded in the Hogwarts Book at the hour of his birth, and no doubt Dumbledore was watching for this one.

_Harry James Potter,_ it read in a simple, elegant script, just below the entry recording the birth of Neville Augustus Longbottom. _Born upon the 31st of July in the year Ninteen-Hundred and Eighty, to James Albus Potter and Lily Moira Evans._

There was nothing to indicate that this child was anything other than a perfectly ordinary infant wizard. No new star shone in the night sky. No witch saw anything startling in her teacup. No one awoke suddenly without reason. Just a quill, quietly scratching down the names, and an old man watching it and smiling sadly.

In the cottage in Godric's Hollow, the young parents were laughing and weeping, and James was trying to kiss Lily and the baby at the same time.

Sirius clapped James on the back. His eyes shone with emotion, and the corners of his smile trembled slightly.

"Sorry, mate," he told his best friend. "Looks like he got your hair after all."

Remus almost crawled out of his skin with impatience, waiting for his turn to hold the baby. Lily held him first, of course, and then James. Then it was his godfather's turn. Lily saw Remus and Sirius's eyes meet in a look of unfathomable longing over the black fuzz of her newborn son's head, and she felt a tiny spark of hope for them.

At last, the sleeping infant was passed into the arms of the werewolf, and James and Sirius stepped outside for a moment of quiet and cool, fresh air. The temperature had dropped sharply, and the night was unseasonably cold. They could see their breath as they grinned and clinked their bottles of butterbeer together in a silent toast.

"What happens now?" Sirius asked at last.

"I don't know," said James. "It's August now," he added.

"And a July birth is ill-omened?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "You know it's not me, don't you Prongs? If you don't trust me -"

"I do," James assured him. "There are just - things going on. The fewer who know about them, the safer we all are."

Sirius nodded grudging acceptance. "But it can't be Moony, either, can it?"

"No," said James, looking up into a sky spangled with stars and lit by the waning moon. "I don't think so. I hope not."

They were silent for a moment.

"I never wanted it to end," James said then. "Us. The Marauders. But it's done now, isn't it? I've got Lily and the - and Harry to think about now. Peter's hardly ever around anymore. You and Remus - I know we see you guys all the time, but you have your own stuff, too, don't you?"

"It doesn't matter," Sirius told him, a hand on his shoulder. "We had that time, and so long as we remember, we always will. The Marauders may be done with, but we're still here for you, mate."

James looked in through the window. The room within was golden with candlelight. It reflected and sparkled in the copper of his wife's hair as she bent her head, smiling, tired eyes drooping, over their son.

"You see that woman?" he said. "That's my wife. And that's my child - my son - she's holding. I look at them, and all I can think of is how afraid I am of losing them. I've no family left, and there's hardly a person alive I can trust."

He looked away from the window, and into the eyes of his best friend. "They are my family now," he said earnestly. "My home. My heart. My nation. Lies, murder, Dark magic; there is _nothing_ I wouldn't do to protect them. I don't know what you'd call that, but I call it service. Are you with me?"

Sirius swallowed, licking his lips nervously. "I am," he said. "Whatever it takes, we'll do it. And if you should fall, I'll see them safe. You have my word."

~ THE END ~


End file.
